The Vycans
by chainofcommand
Summary: Ok so the title may give it away a little. Sonja's alive and she and Lucian lead a new kind of pack. Viktor's holding on to his vampiric Aryan race kind of idea. Yes, Lucian and Sonja did have their baby - and he does star in this! Everyone's in this one!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimers: I own nothing to do with Underworld. If I did, it would be Mr Sheen in those leather trousers :P _

_Dedication: for mellowenglishgal, coz she sat with me, not getting a word in edgeways and her tea getting cold, while I rabbited on about my idea. Love ya sweetie!_

_So, this is my version of 'what if Sonja never died?' Sonja never told Viktor she was pregnant so he never killed her (basically I was watching the film ROTL and Viktor's line that if Sonja hadn't got pregnant, her transgressions could have been swept under the carpet got me wondering ... so what if she hadn't told Viktor?) May have a 'cute' flashback to Sonja telling Lucian he's gonna be a daddy later. With have to give it some thought._

_Hope you guys enjoy. R&R as always!_

Chapter One

Selene followed the unsuspecting human through the streets of Budapest. He never even sensed her silent presence – she had been tracking things that would give this human yelp nightmares centuries before he had been anything more than an idea.

She saw the human heading towards the Metro station. Locking eyes through the deluge of rain with the vampire across the square, Selene gave a slight nod. Immediately the male vampire, Nathaniel, melted into the crowds. Knowing he would be where required Selene did not bother to track him, although she was one of the only two beings abroad tonight who would be able to.

Or so she thought. Twenty stories above her, the lycan Raze was perched like a gargoyle on the very edge of the building. The drop below him was not what made his brow furrow – even a newborn babe of his kind could survive that fall. Provided they did not land on their head. No, it was the vampires'_ purpose _that concerned him. They had been unusually active of late, even more so than the darkness heralding winter should have allowed.

_Filthy bloods,_ Raze thought. _The war is over! We won! Why do they insist on continuing the feud?_ If Viktor wanted to keep his little race of 'true' vampires separate then fine, there were many covens of vampires _and_ werewolves that wanted to do that. Lucien and Sonja had _said _they would not force anyone to co-exist that did not want to. And it was not Raze job to make them – he was a soldier, not a diplomat. He did not arrange where they lived, he just arranged where they died if they attacked each other. Secrecy was paramount – it was bad enough they were the stuff of _legends_, they did not need to make the humans anymore aware than they already were. Not with the weapons these mortals had created in the last century.

Shaking his head, Raze concluded his musings. They were thoughts he had had many times, and he would have them again no doubt in the years to come. _Just give me something pale and cold to kill. Preferably close range and pissed off. _He clenched and unclenched his fist – it had been awhile since his last fight and he was looking forward to getting back to fieldwork. Looking up, he saw Trix balanced on the stone railing of the clock tower. He was busy taking pictures of the vampires. If it did not give them a clue to the vampires' purpose it would at least ID the corpses. _Oh, yes,_ Raze smiled, _there will be corpses._

Trix finished his recon task and look to Raze for further instruction. Raze lifted a large hand and brought it down sharply in a small gesture that should have been lost in the distance that separated the two of them. Instead, Trix nodded and stepped off the ledge. Raze did likewise, enjoying for a second the thrill of plummeting 300ft knowing you will walk away unbruised.

***

Selene leant seemingly casually against the pillar in the metro platform. She looked at Rigel briefly. He returned the gaze with a half-smile of anticipation – he had been injured by a lycan on his last mission and had spent the last week healing. He was itching for payback.

_Just remember the mission comes first, _Selene thought_. It would not do to return to the Ordoghaz without the prize and disappoint Viktor again. _They had been tracking this one – _Michael, _Selene thought, _he has a name – _for a week now and Viktor was getting impatient.

The boy – _Michael!_ – began to descend the stairs to the platform. Selene slid round the pillar so she could see him better. Longish brown hair, lean form, hazel eyes. _Kind eyes, _she thought before rebuking herself for focusing on such an insignificant – and, frankly, unhelpful – detail.

Not to mention soaking wet. The hood, like the rest of the jacket was cloth and did nothing to the rain but absorb it. All in all, he was unremarkable. Apart from the sweet eyes.

_I'm getting old, _she thought. Interesting how old women act like young, giggling schoolgirls – with the right incentive. _Except I'm neither young nor giggly. I'm a six hundred year old warrior immortal with a pair of Berettas strapped to my thighs. _Which was somewhere Mr Michael Corvin had no chance to going.  
_Pity, it's been a while. And he looks like he'd be good. _Well, no worse than some of the others she had had over the centuries.

Michael looked up as he got to the bottom of the escalator. Standing there, looking alluring in the jeans and jacket that clung to her (admittedly great) curves thanks to the rain was the woman of his dreams. At least she would be, if he ever had the time to dream. Being a doctor was round the clock work. Still, she was a _babe, _and looking at _him. _

_Don't be a loser and look behind you to see if her very large, very scary boyfriend is standing behind. Just smile and keep going. And whatever you do, DON'T fall on your ass like the last time a pretty girl batted her eyelashes at you! _After that not-so pep-talk, Michael raised his eyes to the girl again and gave a small hi-I'm-a-nice-guy-not-hitting-on-you-just-smiling kind of smile. The babe looked at him. She _had _looked interested. Now she just looked sad. That bone deep kind of sorrow that never fades, just gets easier to hide. Michael wondered who she had lost.

Selene shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She decided she did not like this guy's eyes after all. _Oh, cute and all with they're lost puppy that can see right through to your soul thing going on. _She hated the feeling that this pup could see to her soul – that was a dark place, with many secrets and pains and many, many victims waiting to drag her beneath her sorrow and never let her resurface. _May be I should take a holiday. Go to Hawaii and watch the sunrise. _Selene was not really suicidal, but, just occasionally she wondered what would happen if she just _did not _fight back. The world would not end. Viktor would mourn her, certainly, but would find her replacement within hours of her passing. He was not the type to let emotions get in the way of his mission. And, to be honest, she was tiring of this mission. No matter how many they killed there would always be more vycans – those that believed the vampires and lycans could co-exist.

But they could not. Lycans were animals. They needed to be put down like the mangy dogs they were. They destroyed lives, tore apart futures, slaughtered families. _They slaughtered my family. For all they're 'we can live together peacefully' bullshit, they forgot the humans. The ones who had no business in this infernal conflict. _Selene had never taken a human life when another way was possible. She was not perfect – that choice was not one she always had – but she was better than _them. _Those lying, two-faced bureaucrats that extend the hand of friendship while sundering innocents with the other.

She watched as the human walked away from her murderous gaze. _Oh, well done Selene! He's really going to talk to you now! Now that he thinks you're some kind of PSYCHOPATH! _She gave a small growl and straightened up. She hadn't liked this mission from the first. Viktor knew that. She was a warrior, not a whore. Not only that but she had been a warrior so long that she did not know how to be a _woman_ anymore. Women nudged and enticed. Warriors pointed a gun at your head and made you come with them. Selene knew which way she was more comfortable with. And it had nothing to do with thongs and fluttering eyelashes.

She sighed and moved away from the column. Viktor had said to do whatever necessary to get Michael to come with her. _Just bump into him, act stupid and see where it goes,_ Selene ordered herself. _If in doubt, act like Erika._ Yeah, because she would be able to pull _that _off!

A train roared into the station. Michael headed for it. Two men were following him – one was big and black, looked like he should be playing American football. The other was Caucasian, much slighter than the other, closer to Rigel's physique. Selene made a dash for the train – she knew who these fuckers were.

Raze caught sight of the blood bitch heading for Corvin. _Sorry, bitch, the blood bank is closed! _Raze hefted a modified Uzi and took aim. Selene saw him out of her periphery and dived behind another cement pillars as the bullets slammed into the wall, barely missing her.

Selene threw off the long hoodie she wore. Twin Berettas were strapped to her hips. Selene grabbed them, took a breath and spun round the pillar, firing on sight. Her bullets smacked into the smaller lycan – Trix, she thought his name was, though she did not much care. He stumbled back, right off the platform on the tracks.

_One gone, one here. _

_Blam! _Selene watched horrified as the larger lycan turned away from her. Rigel was standing behind him, smoking gun in hand. Raze did not look happy at being shot in the back.

'FUCKING BLOOD!' Raze roared, firing round after glowing round into Rigel.

_Where the hell's Nathaniel?!_

As if in answer to her unspoken plea, Nathaniel tore round the corner, clattering down the stairs to the platform. He arrived just in time to see Rigel stumble.  
_What the -?!!_ Nathaniel watched as Rigel – disintegrated? He looked as though someone had dragged him into the sunlight, but there was none of that down here. They were 30 ft below ground. In HUNGARY. _IN OCTOBER _for fuck's sake. This should not be happening!

But it was. Nathaniel looked on helpless as Rigel became nothing more than a burnt out husk, his handsome features twisted in unbelievable agony. _Goodbye, my friend, _Nathaniel thought. _And goodbye to you too, you mangy bastard!_ With that Nathaniel slammed himself into Raze, tackling him through the open door of the train and into the carriage. The screams of terrified mortals erupted around him but Nathaniel paid them no heed. They were inconsequential – their lives would be over in a matter of years anyway but Rigel? Rigel had been his friend, his comrade-in-arms, his _brother _for four hundred years. They had fought together, hunted together, whored together and now he was gone. _Not without company, _Nathaniel vowed. An appropriate Shakespearean quote came to mind, _either thou or I must go with him. Either thou or I OR BOTH MUST GO WITH HIM!! _Nathaniel slammed his fist into the lycan's face over and over again, all training, finesse and weapons forgotten. All he knew was that he wanted to inflict _pain._

Raze grabbed the irate vampire by the collar and threw him over his head. The bloodsucker crashed through the other, not open, carriage door and on to the track. Raze pounced after him.

'Just you and me, bloodfucker.'

'That's fine with me, mongrel.' The vampire pulled two knives out of the waistband of his trousers.

'That's all you got? Two little toothpicks?'

'It's all I need.'

'You sure 'bout that?' Raze had the pleasure of watching his opponent's eyes grow impossibly wide at he realised his fatal mistake. He had moved away from mortal eyes. There was only him and a changing werewolf.

'Oh, shit.' If Raze was nig before, it was nothing to his size now. _I guess it's me then. See you soon, Rigel._

Nathaniel's last thought was of the friend he had lost and the one he was leaving behind as 800 pounds of enraged, supernatural fur ploughed into him. _Forgive me, Selene. May you do better than I. _Raze's teeth crushed the vampire's skull, blood and grey matter exploding into his maw.

'Nathaniel!' No! This could not be happening! Not two in one night! _Goodbye Nathaniel. I hope you find peace in whatever is waiting for us._

Nathaniel and Rigel. Both dead. _One of them for one of us. It's not fair, but it's better than nothing. _Selene slammed fresh clips into both her guns and headed for Trix, murder in her heart and the means to deliver it in her hands.

She jumped off the tracks where she had seen Trix disappear only a few minutes ago. _Was it so soon? Death comes swiftly, even to immortals._ She stalked along the tracks parallel to the train, heedless of the agitated mortals, craning down to look at her from inside the carriage. She knew that Michael Corvin could well be one of them. _There will be time for him later. Once that lunar freak is dead! _Selene reached the front of the train. Ducking down so Trix would not see her should he be standing there, Selene spun round the corner, guns pointed up.

He was not there.

Selene straightened up and heard something. Looking up, she saw the lycan perched on the top of the carriage. Selene pulled the trigger of both guns as the lycan leapt at her. The bullets slammed into him, knocking him backwards in midair. He smacked into the smaller carriage door at the head of the train. There was a _crack _as the lycan's head splintered the window. Selene stepped up to the dazed lycan slumped against the train. Planting one booted foot on his chest, she pulled the trigger, emptying the remainder of one of the gun's clips into the lycans skull. Blood, bone and grey matter splattered onto the front of the train. The occupants screamed, if possibly, even louder at the cold execution by the pale woman. Selene heard a roar and turned around the next corner so she was on the side away from the platform, facing a very pissed off, and changed, Raze. She emptied the remaining clip in the approaching lycan's chest. This did little to slow him down. _Something larger then,_ Selene pulled four _shuriken _out of her pocket. Pressing the indented centre to activate the blades, Selene threw them one after the other into the werewolf's chest. Raze howled in pain and anger, but Selene ducked, crawling under the train itself, to the platform.

Finally, with a roar, the metro train pulled out of the station, taking her mission with it. Deciding discretion, not to mention freedom, was the better part of valour in this case, Selene ran for the stairs as Raze melted into the shadows.

_Soon, _they both vowed, _soon I will repay you for tonight. _

_Author's Note: It seems a little backwards what with Selene being in a hoodie and jeans, not the leather cat suit and her tracking Michael not the lycans. All will make sense, I promise (I have a weird need to much flashback-ness so everything before this point will get explained)._

_Hope you liked! I have exams coming up so an update my take a while, but I had to get this out there. _


	2. Author's Note

Just a quick note.

I am sorry for the delay - though admittedly it is not as long as the delay for my story 'life goes on.' I have actually written another three chapters and got quite a way into the story but my laptop died. The dc input on the motherboard is broken - sounds like something Spock should be fixing.

The laptop, with the only copy of the chapters on it, will be back soon hopefully and the chapters will be up starting next week.

I have learnt my lesson - now everything goes on the memory stick!

Chainofcommand


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Lucian stood on the balcony of his bedroom, hands in his pockets, looking out over the city – dawn was just breaking. _Where are you, Michael Corvin? _he mused. _And why does Viktor want you so badly?_

He smelt her long before she crossed the balcony and slipped her arms around his waist. She had to crane her neck uncomfortably to rest her chin on his shoulder so instead Lucian turned around, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Sonja lent her head on his chest, smiling as his heart thudded strongly next to her ear.

'What makes you crave this solitude, my love?' she asked, tilting her head back so she could gaze into his blue eyes. When he did not answer, just continues to frown at the stone wall behind her, she laid her hand on his cheek, silently entreating him to tell her his troubles.

Finally, he said, 'Michael Corvin.' Lucian felt his wife stiffen in his arms. Neither of them knew why Viktor was so condemn _this _human to their twilight world, but Viktor's plans never boded well for their pack, their _family._ It had been six centuries since he had sworn he would eradicate his daughter and her lover. And their children.

From inside, across the long room, they heard a soft tap as someone knocked lightly on the door. Ten metres away and both of them still heard it perfectly. Being a 'mythical' being had its uses.

'Enter,' Lucian said, not bothering to raise his voice any. The door opened and an apparently youthful man crossed the threshold. The regal way he carried himself seemed at odds with his supposed age. But then, he had been born to privilege – revered as a miracle, almost a god.

'Since when do you knocked?' Lucian asked his son.

'Since last time I walked in unannounced, you and Mother were attempting to extend the family.' A devilish twinkle appeared in his chestnut eyes – Lucian had been overjoyed when his son had inherited his mother's eyes – accompanied by a grin.

'You're six hundred years old – you might want to think about starting a family yourself,' Sonja had to look up a little to look her son in the eye – he may have inherited her eyed but he got every other physicality, including his height, from his father – and yet still managed to make him feel like she was looking down at him.

Mother's prerogative, Caleb supposed. Out loud he said, 'I'm a soldier, Mother. Leave parenthood to the others.'

'You could be both. You _should _be both – you are the firstborn.'

Caleb opened his mouth to speak but Lucian redirected the conversation before it could tread the paths it had taken a thousand times before since his son had come into his majority. 'Caleb, I doubt you came here for this conversation – indeed, you do your level best to _avoid _this topic.'

'Ah, yes. We have some information about Michael Corvin. You said to inform you when we found anything.'

Lucian gestured to the door and the small family trooped out, Lucian still holding Sonja's hand. After pulling the door to, Lucian put his arm around his son's shoulders. The younger male may be a soldier and six hundred years old, but Caleb was still Lucian's son. In truth, Caleb basked in his father's affection. So much of these circumstances were because of his mere _existence_, it was nice to know that, despite it all, his father still loved him. And he showed it.

They walked down the corridor in this manner but as soon as they reached the briefing room on the underground level, their demeanour change. No longer just a family, these three were now leaders. Lucian took a seat at the head of the table, Sonja on his right. Raze would normally be on his right but he had not returned from tonight's mission yet. Lucian looked down the table; neither had Trix.

_They should have been back by now; it was only a recon mission._

Lucian pushed the thought to the back of his mind as his son took point. He felt a rush of paternal pride as his watched his son. Calm and competent, his son handled himself well. The others deferred to him, had elected him as their unit's leader. His son had chosen to earn his place, rather than allow himself to coast on his birthright and his men respected him for it. For that, and that he lead by example, from the front, not from the safety of the estate.

He son was addressing the assembled; a member of his unit worked a laptop, bringing up information as Caleb indicated. First was a hospital ID.

'Michael Corvin,' Caleb said. 'Twenty-seven years old, graduated with honours two years ago. Moved to Hungary almost fifteen months ago. We can only speculate at the reason, but this may have something to do with it.' He nodded at the laptop vycan who pulled up a newspaper article. 'Two and a half years ago, Michael Corvin and his fiancée, Samantha Price, were in a car accident. One fatality; Samantha. Corvin stayed in his native USA long enough to complete his studies in medicine and organise his move here.

'Why here?' Lucian asked.

As usual, his son had the answer, 'it seems that during World War Two, Michael's grandparents had moved to America from the Old Country. Apparently Mr Corvin is coming home. He's also coming straight to Hell. Viktor has plans for this individual, but we don't know what or why. That's was we need to find out.' Caleb turned to his father. 'With all due respect, sir, I request that I lead my men in a reconnaissance mission to Viktor's Ordoghaz. If Raze and Trix were unsuccessful, but Viktor's Death Dealers were not, they will bring him there. If not, the vampires will have to regroup. We may have an opportunity for infiltration; find out why they want him.'

Lucian pondered this. 'Raze and Trix have not yet returned from tonight's mission. To act now would be ... premature. If they bring us Michael Corvin, we can protect him from Viktor. If they have failed, we will need to retrieve the human.'

'What if they do not return?' Caleb always covered every angle.

Lucian paused; his son's plan had merit. Looking at him, he said, '  
A team will head to Michael's apartment for the end of his shift tomorrow morning and stay if necessary. There may be a small chance that, if the two forces met on tonight's mission, the resulting chaos would give Michael the chance to escape. In that case, he will, at some point, return to his apartment. Humans always return to the familiar.  
'Meanwhile, we will wait until Raze returns, then you and your team will cover the Ordoghaz, either to retrieve Michael Corvin or Singe – the vampires' scientist will be able to explain Corvin's purpose. If Raze is not back by the full moon your team will leave for the Ordoghaz.  
'It would be most ... _inconvenient_ for Viktor to lose his doctor and his new toy.'

Across town from the vycans' estate, Viktor was echoing similar sentiments in his own mansion. He was pacing the study of his suite, his long brocade coat swishing as he turned angrily on his heel to walk back the way he had come. 'We _must_ find this human! _Before_ the vycans figure out my plans for him! He could change the course of this war for us! _We must capture Michael Corvin!'_

Selene stood, her hands clasped behind her back, disappointment hanging her head slightly. 'I'm sorry, my lord. We tried but the vycans have some kind of new ammunition. It _burnt Rigel alive_. Then Nathaniel took on a lycan single-handedly and lost.'

Viktor waved this away as if it was of no importance, 'Nathaniel always was presumptuous.'

Selene felt as though Viktor had slapped her – she had fought beside Nathaniel for six centuries, they had, at one time, been lovers, and had remained friends afterwards. Was Viktor so blinded by his obsession with Corvin that the death of one of his men meant nothing to him at all? 'I killed the smaller one, Trix.'

'But you let the human escape! You must not do so again. I love you as a daughter, but I begin to lose faith in you.'

_Because I saved my life – after watching two of my comrades be _slaughtered - _instead of running across the city after your little pet!! _Instead of saying this, she nodded, 'I will retrieve Corvin next time.'

'You will wait for him at his apartment for him to return home. Then you will bring him here.'

'How am I supposed to explain that? I was meant to a chance encounter, what chance is there in waiting for him in his living room?!'

Viktor gave a cold laugh that made Selene shift uncomfortably. 'We are beyond that plan now, Selene. Yes, I wanted you to entice him in, the possibility of an eternity of pleasure in return for a few years of warfare.' Selene hated how he said it – it made her sound like a whore. 'Nothing else matters but gaining the descendent of Corvinus. Once he is turned it will not be important if he understands or not - there will be no going back. If he wants to survive, he will have no choice but to obey me.'

Selene felt uncompromising, and uncomfortable, pity for the marked youth. Viktor was consumed by the legend of the sons of Corvinus, had been since he and Singe had discovered the truth all those years ago when he personally had turned the dying scientist. It had stripped him of all pretence of humanity, revealing a single-minded, unfeeling ruthlessness that disturbed even Selene at times. She wondered what would become of Michael once the war was over, once Viktor no longer needed him to be his weapon of victory. She wondered what would become of herself. Viktor would probably kill Michael – he would pose too much of a threat to Viktor's leadership. As for herself, once this war was over she would become obsolete. He had rejected one daughter – he could do it to another.

'Corvin's shift at the hospital will not end until tomorrow morning, which gives you the day to sleep and the night to prepare. Five o'clock tomorrow morning, Michael Corvin will return home to find _you _waiting for him. That should be enough to make any man forget he is tired.' The smile Viktor directed at Selene made her shift again. She had been killing vycans for close to six centuries but only since Michael had arrived on the scene had she been made to feel cheap.

A knock came at the door.

'Enter!' Viktor barked.

An older looking, wiry man came in. Readjusting his glasses, he betrayed his nervousness. 'My lord, Viktor. Selene.' Singe bowed to Viktor and nodded at Selene, which she returned.

'You are in luck, Selene; we may not have need of the pup at all.' Viktor waved the scientist forward. Singe had not been encouraged by Viktor's words; his already white vampiric countenance turned even paler.

'I'm sorry, my lord, but it is essential that we find this Michael Corvin. Both test subjects were negative.' Singe was referring to the two men currently tied up in the basement laboratory/infirmary.

Viktor's anger was almost palpable. He glared at Singe in such a way that, had the poor being still been human, he probably would have had a heart attack where he stood. Selene just wanted to leave – this wasn't her problem. Her mission was to deal out death, hence the title _Death Dealer_. She didn't care about the science stuff, all she cared about was putting down as many of those vycans fuckers as she could – eventually she may even find the ones who made her what she was. She would thank _them _with piercing silver and burning sunlight.

Viktor seemed to sense her wavering attention and dismissed her. She went to her own set of rooms. Finally, she was able to strip off the jeans and hoodie, both sodden from the rain and blood of the night's events. She surveyed herself in the mirror – dressed in only a tank top and her underwear she supposed at first glance she looked like any other twenty one year old – the age she had been when Viktor turned her. It was only up close that one may be able to tell she was different to the rest of the women she resembled – her eyes had the look, the one that said _I have looked across the ages of this world and I will look across a thousand more before my time here is done. _

Suddenly, Selene felt old. She was tired of this. Six hundred years of fighting and Viktor was treating her as though she was a prostitute to be dangled in front of panting men, to "entice" them to sign their souls away. Viktor was not the leader he had once been – his control had crossed to tyranny, rewarding those who had stayed with him and had not followed Marcus to Lucian's fortress with increased fear. They were hanging on by a thread and, if Selene was entirely honest with herself, she was not sure she wanted to hold on anymore. She would never know who had been the ones to kill her family; they may even be dead now. Her reason for being immortal did not seem good enough anymore.

Sighing, Selene stripped off the rest of her clothes and stepped under a scolding spray of water. It felt good to wash the city grime away, to loosen her muscles once more. She leant against the wall of the shower and thought about Rigel and Nathaniel. It seemed like so long ago that they have driven to the square, to catch up to Corvin. Rigel had been telling them about a girl, a barmaid at a nearby pub. The boys had joked about how mad Viktor would be if Rigel "accidently" turned her while in the throes of passion. Selene had bitten her tongue and not said that he would probably kill them both – turnings could only occur with Viktor's expressed permission, they just did not have the resources to support someone who did not earn their way. With Viktor, you earned your way by helping him defeat the 'defiler of his daughter and their hybrid offspring' so they usually chose ex-armed forces types, criminals from organised crime syndicates, people who knew how to kill. A barmaid from Budapest just did not fit the bill.

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried off and grabbed a robe from the back of the door. Tying the sash, she crossed to her study. Originally a bedroom, it had been converted at Selene's request. She had no need for a bed; the divan served her well enough when she wanted rest. Her life's – unlife? – pursuit had been the persecution of lycans and the cold, Spartan feel of the room reflected that. The room had no personal touches, she had left no impressions of who she was that may be gleaned. She did not know if she had enough human left in her to have a personality, having been nothing but a killer for so long. A brutally effective, calculating weapon. Viktor had loved her.

But lately something had changed. Having faced the realisation that she lacked anything resembling womanly wiles, Selene had tried to be less Death Dealer, more feeling like the others. It had just made her feel empty. She had always been content with having her vengeance dictate her life, but now she was looking around her realising while she had given her existence over to death and destruction, the other vampires had killed when required but had had an existence_ outside _of the war – they had fallen in love, some had even managed to have children, though vampire pregnancies were rare.

Then Michael bloody Corvin comes along with his bloody soulful, stupid sodding kind eyes and stirs up all kind of emotions she is not ready to deal with. She cannot even _name _some of them! Pity, sure, she was setting him up to be a soulless monster like her. Anger, sure, at herself for the above feeling and at Viktor for coming up with this plan in the first place.

But there had been something else, too. Something that, for a moment, had reduced the world to her and him, nothing else. She had seen attraction in his eyes before he had given her that daft I'm-hitting-on-you-but-I'm-not-hitting-on-you-so-don't-hit-_me _look.

Attraction she could deal with – you fool around, you get over it, you move on. But the unshakable feeling that Michael Corvin was about to change her life? Not so deal with-able _(is that even a word? With-able?_ Selene wondered.)

Once again, Selene sighed – she seemed to be doing it an embarrassing amount of times lately – _I give up. I'm going to bed. Maybe things will be clearer in the evening. _She highly doubted it – the centuries had taught her realism amongst other things.


	4. Chapter 3

_Michael-centric this one, with some Selene-ness thrown in for good measure._

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Chapter Three

Somehow, and he would never really remember _how,_ Michael made it through his shift at the hospital; sun-up to sun-up.

There had been many patients, one in particular he needed to see now he had finished work.

Heading down to ICU, Michael stopped outside the ward, looking through the giant window. There she was, the red-head girl he had spent half an hour trying to coax into not dying on him. Despite the incredible amount of blood she had lost, she had hung in there; she had not let him down.

Michael saw the scene replaying in his head. He had been walking to the train, head still filled with thoughts of the babe in the oversized hoodie, when his attention had been attracted by shouts. He had looked behind him, seen a big guy firing a _big _gun and dived into the train. The man had been aiming for the girl that had been possessing Michael's thoughts, but she had been faster than she looked, whipping out of the way with what Michael could only describe at preternatural speed.

Instead the bullets had slammed into this young lady, currently on life support in front of him. Michael had seen two options as the world went to hell around him, option one: sit here and watch another girl die too young, or, option two: do the possibly _dumbest _thing in his _life_ and throw himself into the middle of a gunfight to save a girl who was probably going to die no matter what he did, even if she was not dead already - he could tell from the spray and the amount of blood that the artery in her leg had been hit. Michael had weighed the options for a nanosecond before hurling himself out of the train, sliding across the floor so he could scoop up the teenager and drag her behind a nearby kiosk.

Now, here she was. Ivana Nikos, seventeen, critical but stable. Hit by _seven _bullets. One had been a through and through, severing her artery, the other six had been dug out from her collarbone, ribs and pelvis. And yet she was still alive. In a drug-induced coma and probably unable to leave the hospital until she was eighteen, but she was _alive._

Sometimes, the endurance of the human body amazed Michael.

But now, it was time to go home. To get a few hours sleep before he was back to hearing that this guy was not breaking in, it was his own skylight he was fallen through, and no, she was not an abused wife, she had fallen down the stairs. Could he not tell?  
_People must think that, despite a gruelling seven years of study, doctors are idiots._

Soon enough, Michael got to his front door, where he noticed it was ajar. That was when his brand new day went to hell. Again.

He pushed open the door, unsure of whether to see if the thieves were gone – he had nothing to steal unless they were particularly fond of medical textbooks – or whether to call the police.

_Screw it; I'm too tired to care right now._ He walked into the apartment and found ... nothing. Then a shadow to his right exploded and Michael found himself pinned to the wall, his feet dangling a good six inches off the floor.

_Jesus, I'm being attacked in my own apartment by frigging Darth Vader!_ Then he noted the distinctly female silhouette. _Or Xena._

She stepped into the light of the lamp Michael realised he had definitely _not_ left on and he recognised the girl from the subway.

'You!' he croaked.

She surveyed him dispassionately, as though she did this all the time._ Watch yourself, Michael, you don't know this chick. She _may_ do this all the time!_

When she was satisfied he was indeed Michael and not a vycan decoy, Selene released her grip and the human crumpled to the floor. Too late she realised she probably should had set him on the sofa. Or not pinned him to his own wall in the first place. Too late now, she supposed.

'Michael Corvin?'

He looked startled that she knew his name.

'My name is Selene. You need to come with me.'

'I'm not going fucking _anywhere _with you!'

At the same time, several loud thuds came from the roof. They both looked up, Michael confused, Selene murderous. Pulling a Beretta once more from her hip holster, Selene took aim and a barrage of silver bullets hit the ceiling. 'Stay down!' she yelled to Michael.

_Screw you, _he thought in reply and bolted from the apartment.

Selene's guns ran dry and in the resulting silence, Selene realised that she could not hear the human – no frenzied heartbeat or heavy breathing. Hoping not to see what she knew she would see Selene turned. She was alone in the apartment.

'Shit!' _Stupid human whelp!_

Selene ran out of the apartment just in time to see Michael dash into an elevator at the other end of the hall. Knowing it was too late, but too stubborn to give up, Selene ran after him. She got there a split second too late.

'Shit!' she said again, pounding on the door in her frustration.

A growl announced the werewolves had broken through to the main hall. And worse, Selene saw that the stairs were _beyond_ them, at the other end of the hall.

With no stairs and no elevator, Selene decided to use gravity. Pulling the other Beretta from her hip, she fired at the floor, creating a circle of shredded floor around where she stood. Soon, but almost not soon enough, the floor broke away crashing down to the next level. Not waiting to see how close the pursuing werewolves were, Selene streaked down the new corridor, little more than a black blur in her new ebony attire.

In the elevator, Michael willed the steel cage to go fast. He just wanted to be away from all these gun-wielding _freaks!_

The doors finally opened and revealed ... a reddish-blonde haired man, not much older than Michael himself, early thirties, perhaps. 'Hello, Michael.' This new stranger, much like the PCP-strong woman in his apartment, spoke with a British accent. _How the fuck do you people all know my name?!_

'TAYLOR!' it was her again, the uber-babe. The stranger's head whipped round just as several bullets slammed into his torso. He fell forward onto Michael, and Michael felt a burning in his shoulders as the guy _bit _him!

The next thing Michael felt, apart from the newcomer's weight crushing his lungs, was an iron grip on his ankle as Wonder Woman's evil twin dragged him out from under the biter and away. Halfway to the door she seemed to remember his legs actually worked and hauled him to his feet.

Now she took his hand and began towing him along. Despite everything else that was going on, he noticed how cold her hand felt. He felt positively feverish with all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. _I thought cold-blooded killer was just an expression,_ he thought numbly as the vixen practically tossed him into the passenger seat of an Audi TT.

She roared through the streets of Budapest as though the legions of Hell were on their asses. All too quickly she was leaving the city limits and they were speeding along country lanes.

_Christ, I've been in ambulances that didn't go this fast!_ He thought as she took a bend at 60mph.

On and on they drove with her checking every so often to see if anyone was following them. It did not occur to either of them to try and make conversation. What was Michael supposed to say, 'do you do this often'? Selene did not think an apology would be to welcome, given what he had been through since she entered his life.

_It still would have been genuine,_ she thought, miserably.

The sun had fully risen by the time they arrived at the Ordoghaz. Part of Selene wanted to just keep driving, just step on the gas and spirit this poor guy away somewhere where he was not the sought after weapon. The other part of Selene knew that running was futile; Viktor would find them eventually and then there would be hell to pay.

She swung into the drive and the wrought iron gates opened up ahead. She sped down the mile long drive, executing a handbrake turn around the fountain so that when the car came to stop, she was closest to the front door, not Michael. Tactically, this was a stupid thing to do, but to for some reason, Selene wanted to stand between Michael and the nightmarish occupants of this house.

_Probably because I'm the one who brought him here._

Michael had gotten out the car but had not said anything. She was starting to think he may be mute. He was leaning against the car, one hand on the door that he had not closed yet, staring dumbly up at the house.

_He has no idea what he had gotten himself into. What _I _have gotten him into. _Selene almost told him to get back into the car – she'll drive him anywhere, anywhere he wanted, as long as he never comes back _here._ But, too late, the doors opened to reveal the welcome wagon in the form of Erika. The lithesome beauty was Selene's opposite in almost every way; fair where Selene was dark, slender where Selene was curvaceous, a consummate flirt practised in the arts of seduction where Selene was, for lack of a better phrase, a complete bitch.

The thought of leaving Michael in Erika's clutches made Selene want to scratch the blonde's eyes out. This was not helped by the way Erika was looking at Michael as though Christmas had just come early.

'So here he is at last.' Erika sashayed her way towards Michael. 'Michael Corvin. The house has been simply _buzzing _about you.' She smiled at him, showing pearly white teeth and elongated incisors.

Michael finally found his voice, he was in a daze and not, Selene was satisfied to note, because of Erika's mega-watt, knee-melting facial expressions. 'How do you all know my name?'

'Because, darling,' she put a hand on Michael's nicely developed bicep. Selene resisted the urge to slap her. 'We have been waiting for you for a _long _time.' Slipping her arm through the crook of his, Erika began to lead to up the steps into the house. 'Oh, Selene?'

_Nice, all this work and I'm the after-thought._ 'What,' she growled, annoyed at Erika's physical contact with Michael, and doubly annoyed that it actually seemed to matter to her. What the hell was Corvin doing to her? He was actually making her annoyed at herself for being annoyed at herself! Selene rubbed her temples; she was beginning to get a headache.

'Viktor's waiting for you in the infirmary, with Singe. That's where I'm taking Michael now.'

'Don't hang around, do you?' Selene said sarcastically, under her breath. _The twenty four hours he's been through and they're going to round it off by making him their science experiment._

'What was that?' Erika asked, sweetly, both of them perfectly aware she had heard the other woman's mutterings.

Selene shook her head, not about to engage in one-upmanship with Erika just because they both found Michael attractive.

Erika steered Michael through the crowd that had gathered in the foyer, heading to the basement where the lab was located. Selene stayed five steps behind them the whole way, deliberately keeping a slight distance between herself and Michael. The journey had been almost overwhelming. He had smelt so _good_ she had almost stopped that car and helped herself, admittedly wanting more than just his blood, on several occasions.

When they reached the lab/infirmary they found Viktor and Singe, just as Erika had said they would. They also found someone else. A fully transformed, fully grown werewolf, strapped to a gigantic titanium chair, growling and snarling in the way only a cornered animal will.

Michael's eyes bugged and it all finally seemed too much for him. He fainted, his body crashing straight into Selene who only just caught him in time. Erika looked vaguely petulant that in his sudden loss of consciousness Michael had not chosen to fall on her.

_Hey, I'll switch places,_ Selene thought as she inelegantly hauled Michael onto the nearest gurney.

'Good, that will make things easier,' Viktor said. 'We do not have to sedate him and all of that bother.'

_Yes, because one man's desire to survive as the being he was born as really is just such a bother,_ Selene's thought venomously. Viktor may be beginning to lose faith in her, but she had lost faith in him a long time ago. Now, the only thing keeping her here was a misplaced sense of duty, and the fact that this life was the only one she had ever really known. Right now, however, she was prepared to throw caution to the wind, drag Michael the hell out of there and run.

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_Hope you liked. Time for a little R&R from you guys, thank you!_


	5. Chapter 4

_Sorry! Monumental cock-up. That _was_ the chapter for Separation (a twilight fanfiction) but here is the Underworld chapter._

_I really was just testing you guys to see if you were paying attention! And I'm glad to say you past! Yay! Your prize – the fifth chapter of The Vycans! You don't even have to review to get it, aren't I lovely?_

_But now, reviewing must continue! Or no sixth chapter. Yes, the bitchy side of me is back. Blame it on the two day migraine I've had._

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Chapter Four

_Previously; Right now she was prepared to throw caution to the wind, drag Michael the hell out of there and run._

The feeling only intensified over the next few hours. She stood there mutely, hating herself for the part she had played, the part she was still playing, watching as Singe strapped Michael down to the gurney and wheeled him over to the chained up werewolf. They held out his wrist. When the werewolf refused to bite, Viktor drew a knife from his waistband and slit across Michael's wrist, to entice the beast. It was only when she saw the desperate hunger in its eyes that Selene realised this creature had been deliberately starved, just for this purpose.

Hunger fought determination. This beast did not want to condemn another to this life, but he was just so _hungry._

_Poor beast, _Selene thought. _It did not ask to be here anymore than I did._ She felt an odd kinship with the werewolf and began to think that maybe the vycans were not the ones who had it wrong. Maybe they were. Take out all the crap that happened and why was she here? Because Viktor had turned her, saying he could give her the strength to avenge her family. But where was her vengeance? She did not know who had been the ones to kill her family – Viktor had not shared that vital piece of information. Was not she just as bad as those vycans had been? She had killed indiscriminately, too, but because she could. Because she wanted vengeance. Because in those brief moments of the kill, when the adrenaline was high and the fury felt almost like joy, Selene _felt_ again, emotions coursed through her and she could almost remember what it was to be human, not an empty, undead shell.

But still she could not walk away – the loss of her family crossed the intervening centuries to burn her like acid. She had to, _needed to _find the one responsible, then it would be over. Then she would atone for her sins. But he must be made to atone for his, first.

Across the room, away from the bored Erika pondering her nails and the silent Selene glaring at the floor, Michael Corvin thrashed as the werewolf's hunger finally won out and it bit his wrist. Blood poured into its mouth as its virus spread rapidly through Michael's bloodstream. He strained against his bonds, his back arched in pain, but still he was unable to get away. When he could not take it anymore...

'That's enough; we don't want him to lose the hand. What good would a one armed hybrid be?' Viktor wrenched the werewolf away from Michael. It moaned as if in pain. Viktor snapped its neck. The crack echoed through the room and jolted Selene out of her stupor. The unneeded cruelty unsettled her. _There was no need. He did your bidding, the least you could have done as a reward was to let him go._

Viktor laughed when she said something of this effect to him. 'Let him go? My dear Selene, he was a beast, a mindless animal. He was nothing, and now he is dead. Put him out of your mind.'

There was much Selene wished she could put out of her mind. Selene knew she had finally come to the crossroads, she must either stay with Viktor, being the very worst kind of monster the human race believed them to be, or she could strike out on her own, and no longer have her agenda compromised by his.

Maybe not totally alone, she thought as she eyed Michael on the gurney. Singe was cutting away the still-mortal's clothes. The consummate scientist, Singe wanted to observe and record all of the changes that occur to Michael's body while he underwent the lycanthropy. _I will help you,_ Selene vowed,_ I will get you out of this mess I got you into, I swear on my existence, on the graves of my family, you will not suffer for Viktor's glorious victory like the rest of us._

She had not had the chance to tell Viktor about what happened at Michael's apartment. Now that he had the human, Viktor did not care. So he did not know what Selene suspected, that Taylor had _bitten _Michael. A mere hour before he was bitten by that werewolf. Would he survive having been bitten by both species in such a short space of time? She heard Singe and Viktor talking about how long they should wait before they inject Michael with Viktor's own blood. She could barely contain her smile. They decided to leave it for a few days to let Michael's body react to the lycanthropy before throwing another viral spanner in the works. One there was a new moon, when the lycanthropy would be at its weakest, they would give him the vampirism. Or so they thought.

'I will watch over him,' Selene strode over to the pair of them standing over Michael's bedside. She was disconcerted by how much they resembled vultures. 'Nothing will happen until the full moon, that's the night after next. Leave him be and I will send word when something happens, when I see him begin to change. Then you can inject him, he'll go through the vampiric change straight away.' You'll never get the chance – we'll be long gone by then.

They nodded their assent and the three of them – Selene had mostly forgotten about Erika – left the room. They did not know that Michael was already well on his way to becoming a vampire. The fever, a side effect of which was the dazed state he had shown outside the house; the fainting spells; the pain which often caused spasms such as arched backs. All were classic symptoms of the vampire change taking place. But because of the surrounding circumstances, everyone merely thought Michael was a bit of a pansy. The truth was that staying on his feet as long as he had was a testament to how tough and resilient Michael was.

'Don't worry,' Selene murmured, stroking the hair away that was sticking to Michael's fevered brow. 'I'm here. I'm going to try to make things easier on you. I won't leave you. I promise.'

For the rest of that day, Selene wiped his brow with a cool, damp cloth, held him down when the spasms started – no one wanted to start immortality with a broken spine, they were a bitch to mend – and tried to make him more comfortable. At last, in the early hours of the morning, nearly 24 hours after he had been bitten, the fever broke, the spasms stopped and Michel Corvin opened his eyes for the first time as a vampire.

_Thank God._ Selene was nearing the end of her immortal endurance. Emotional strain was more draining than she would have believed.

'Michael?' Selene took a step back as his eyes snapped open to look at her. Confusion seemed paramount but hostility was also evident. 'Do you remember me? Selene? I didn't leave, just like I promised.'

Michael had the straps broken in a second. He had his hand around Selene's throat and her body pinned to the wall in another second. She gasped but did not struggle. Newborns were often confused – the heightened senses, mostly – and therefore often dangerous. Still in their mortal frame of mind they could not comprehend that they could break walls or solid oak doors with one hand. The resulting freak out made them deadly. Best to keep things calm and none threatening.

So far, Selene did not think she was doing such a good job. Six centuries of honed instincts were working out his weaknesses, where to strike and how fast. Her consciousness warred with them – after everything they have been through, she did not want to kill him.

'Why?'

'I didn't have a choice.' Michael did not like that answer and his grip on her throat tightened. 'I'm sorry.'

'You will be.'

'I can help you.'

'Why should I trust you?'

'Because right now, you don't have a choice.' That got his attention.

He let go and Selene slid to the floor. He looked down at her, 'you're going to help me? After everything, you are going to help me? Why?'

'I want to give you the choice no one gave me.'

'Fine,' Michael gripped her arm and hauled her to her feet – see how she likes being pushed around for a change – 'let's get the hell out of here.'

She did not dare argue. His face had hardened; he barely looked like the caring doctor she had known him to be when he came down those subway stairs. He definitely did not look like the sweet, young man she had been caring for during his sickness. She wondered if he knew he still said his fiancée's name when he slept. Always the same, always "Samantha, I'm sorry." Once she had seen a tear roll out of the corner of his eye into his hair. She had hated Samantha.

'We need a car to get out of here,' Michael was already planning.

'You need clothes first,' Selene pointed out. Michael looked down and saw she was right. Spinning round, taking Selene with him, she saw the piles of shredded tatters that had once been his clothes. He bent down to pick up his intact shoes.

'You're going to need a little more than your boxers and boots. I'll go get you something, wait here.' She made to more off but he did not release her arm, pulling her back so they were chest to chest, he glared down at her. 'How do I know you'll come back?'

'I've stuck around this far haven't I?'

'You best come back alone.'

'I will. I swear.' Finally, Michael released his death grip and Selene walked, slightly unsteadily, out of the room, resisting the urge to rub her arm.

She moved quickly along the deserted corridor – it had been ten hours since she had surprised him in his apartment and was now five in the evening. Everyone would still be in bed – being a community of strictly vampires this was the time they were still vulnerable. She crept quietly to Nathaniel's room – she had sized Michael up the second he saw her and he looked about the same size as Nathaniel. Stepping inside she was hit by a wave of despair – everything was just as he left it, he fully expected to come back. A book was left open, face down on the table. Picking it up, Selene saw he had been reading the story of Dorian Grey. She sat down on the bed – rumpled from Nathaniel's pre-recon romp with Daniela, his lover – and stroked the cover. A tear trickled down her face; they may have not been lovers in three centuries but Selene still cared about him. She huffed and slammed the book back down on the table. Stalking to the armoire, she grabbed jeans, a long-sleeved top and a hoodie. Taking a glimpse at the window she remembered the wind and the rain of the night she had met Michael and took a leather jacket, too. Nathaniel only died last night so the room would not be stripped and the possessions reassigned until everyone woke up tonight. No one would miss these few clothes until then. She did not bother with shoes – Michael had been wearing surprisingly hardwearing work boots.

She did not see anyone on the way back to the infirmary. There was some sneaking around going on – people screwing people they shouldn't - but no one noticed her; no one could touch her on stealth abilities. She opened the door to the infirmary as little as possible, slipped through and closed it silently. Turning around, she saw Michael inches from her face. She resisted the urge to jump, but it was a close thing.

His cold eyes lanced her all the way down and came back up to rest on the bundle of clothes in her arms. He took them and turned his back on her. What did she expect? Gratitude? She had hoped for at least a little less hostility.

He got dressed carefully and she remembered how fragile she had felt after her own conversion. He had just picked up the hoodie when a spasm wrenched at his gut. He bent over double, almost forced to his knees. Selene rushed across the room, kneeling next to him, her hands on his shoulders. He wanted to throw her off, but the pain was so intense he was not sure he could stay up without her. She pulled him slowly to his feet and sat him on the gurney again. He looked at the bloodstains around the broken straps and jumped off. "Why? Why is this happening?"

"It was the first night of the full moon tonight – the moon must be beginning to raise, making your body is beginning to react to the lycan venom."

"Great, just fucking perfect." Another spasm hit him and Michael grunted in pain – he wanted to scream. Selene reached to him but this time he did shrug her off. "Get away from me. This is all your fault, you did this to me. Why?"

"Because I was told to." It sounded pitiful now, trying to explain herself in the face of his pain. Agony-ridden brown eyes cut into her and she felt ashamed. She knelt down next to where Michael had fallen. "I'm a soldier, Michael, and I was following orders. I was told to get you here at any cost, so they could turn you. Michael, I am so sorry. I know that doesn't mean much to you, but I am."

"You're right," Michael stood up and looked down on her. "It doesn't mean much. It doesn't mean _anything. _You made me into some supernatural _freak_ like you! Why?"

She flinched at the sheer hate in his voice. "We needed a weapon – we needed you."

Michael looked confused and opened his mouth to ask another question but Selene heard a noise outside the door and clamped her hand over his mouth. "Not here, not now. You want to get out of this?"

Michael nodded.

"Then come with me. I'll help you."

"Why?"

"Because I promised." With that she led the now-clothed Michael to the door of the infirmary. She looked around as she opened the door – what had made the sound? She waved her hand behind her back at Michael who was still inside, motioning him to get behind the partially open door. The noise turned out to be – Erika. Lovely.

"What are you doing here?" Selene demanded.

The younger vampire quailed slightly under the other woman's ferocious stare. "Viktor wants to know if the conversion is complete."

"Have I sent word?"

"No, but –"

"Then the conversion is not complete."

"Then where are you going?" Erika was annoyingly more intelligent than she appeared.

Selene thought fast, and then covered up for her previous movements – the less to explain the better. "I was going to get him some clothes. Singe cut away his clothes before the process – he can't go to war in his skivvies."

Erika smiled slyly at the idea, "he could try. I wouldn't mind watching."

Selene rolled her eyes. "Why Viktor keeps you I still don't know."

Erika licked her lips and flicked her hair. "I have my uses."

"No, your pussy has its uses; you are just an unfortunate biological necessity. Now, go tell Viktor his latest project isn't ready yet. If he isn't happy, he can wile away the hours fucking you. Now, go." Selene folded her arms and watched as the affronted blonde stormed away, Selene burning a hole in the back of her head as she went. Viktor wouldn't mind – it would be just another orifice to play with. Selene shook her head to dislodge the vile thoughts currently making her nauseous and looked around once more – the corridor was once again clear. She took Michael's hand and pulled him along the hall until she came to the fork – left took them into the main house, right led to the garage. She took the right and they ran until they burst into the garage. Car after car was lined up. Selene sprinted to the same Audi TT she had abducted him with and started the engine – this time Michael slid voluntarily into the passenger seat. Pushing a button, the garage door slid up and opened, letting the weak sunlight stream in. Michael looked at her, Selene looked back and tapped the windows – he hadn't noticed it last night, but now Michael saw they were deeply tinted, darker than a limo.

Selene gunned the engine and the car shot out, tearing down the drive. Michael tugged his seatbelt on and wondered if he was ever going to take a drive with this woman and not felt like he had left his stomach behind. The gate once again slid open. She turned onto the road and really hit the throttle. Michael did not look back as the Ordoghaz slid into darkness behind them.

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_Soz again about the mix up. _

_See mellowenglishgal – this is what happens when you leave me! Bad thing for going to university when I'm still at home for another two weeks (the stress has given me a migraine and an ulcer – I'm so ready to hit something I should come with a health warning). My parents may have to prise my fingers of the door frame. I won't fit in I know it – I'm too me._


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

They made it to the safe house by nightfall. Selene parked and led Michael into the apparently abandoned building, up to the top floor. She opened the door and did a quick scan of the rooms. "All clear, come on in." Michael stumbled in and slumped on the huge titanium chair welted to the floor of what had once been the living room – the ride had worn him out and he was worse off than he had been in the infirmary. He had had several hallucinations – but they were so real, so vivid. When he had asked Selene about them, she said that they were memories, passed from the vampire that bit him in the elevator, and the werewolf from the infirmary. Michael closed his eyes and the memories washed over him once more.

_He stood behind Lord Marcus. They had been travelling for days, to reach the camp of Lucian, master of the lycan horde, and Sonja, his vampire queen. By now, someone surely would have woken Viktor from his slumber in his crypt, but Marcus did not seem to care. There had been whispers of dissention amongst the Elders, over the treatment of William the First Lycan, and that was why they had begun to leapfrog through time. Amelia and Marcus had slept first – Viktor would not have it any other way. But now, with Viktor's rule established during his reign and assured by Amelia's, it was time to release Marcus from his slumber. Michael had waited for years for this moment – the moment when his true lord and master would return to them. Marcus had ruled for fifty years, finding out those who were loyal still to him and the Corvinus line, and those who followed Viktor and his concubine, Amelia. Now, the faithful followed him to a new destiny. They did not know how the lycans would react, but if they had accepted Sonja as their queen, would they accept her people as their brothers? Michael knew that Marcus hoped so, and hoped that Lucian would help him free William. _

"_Halt. Who goes there?" asked a lycan guard._

_Marcus, stepped forward. "I, Marcus, son of Alexander Corvinus, and my people. We have left Viktor's rule and ask for an audience with your leader, Lucian, and the Lady Sonja."_

_Michael saw a guard disappear from the four guarding the entrance to the camp – a temporary place (Lucian's fortress had been burnt down by Kraven of Leicester. Since Kraven, a power-hunger egotistical vampire of Viktor's, had been in Lucian's back pocket, Lucian knew exactly when the latest siege would take place and had emptied his fortress of all his people but his soldiers. The vampires had anticipated the massacre of a race but instead found a prepared, and pissed off, army of lycanthropes of both kinds. Lucian had waited for Kraven, telling him that their alliance was over – he had never had any intention of giving Kraven Viktor's throne. In retaliation, Kraven had set alight to the fortress and the two had fought when Lucian tried to put the fire out. The battle outside had raged as the fire consumed the place. Lucian had taken Kraven's head for the inconvenience of losing his fortress). _

_The guard walked to the largest tent and waited to be permitted to enter. A few minutes later, the guard returned. "You will removed all your weapons, and leave them here. Then you and one other may proceed to see Lucian and the lady Sonja. The rest will stay here, unarmed and guarded."_

_There were some mutterings among the vampires until Marcus held up a hand. "We find your terms acceptable. Please, we ask for some sustenance – we have been travelling for days."_

"_Follow me, and we will ask the Master Lucian." Marcus nodded, and beckoned to Michael who fell in step slightly behind Marcus, on guard and ready for anyone that may attack. But no attack came. The lycans stopped their work and lined the path to the tent, but there was no attack. Nothing thrown, nothing said. An eerie silent fell over the camp and Michael felt unaccountably nervous – what if they had walked to their doom? He, Marcus, they all were vampires, begging shelter from those they used to call their slaves. Michael shuddered, which Marcus saw._

"_Hold, brother, peace. We knew it would be difficult. But remember, better to die free than live imprisoned – while we were under Viktor's thumb, none of us were safe." Marcus walked into the tent and, after a moment's pause, Michael followed._

_It was not entirely what he had expected. There was the desk, true, covered in the papers of a ruling lord, but there were toys, also and child made mess. Sonja was curled up on a settee, watching as Lucian and a young girl roughhoused on the carpet in front of her. Lucian lunged at the girl, who blurred out of sight as she moved, reappearing a second later to sit on her father's back. She wrapped her arms around her father's throat, clearly under the impression that she had won, but no. Lucian grabbed the back of the girl's dress and tipped her over his shoulder, catching her and curling the girl safely in his arms. The girl giggled, delighted at the game and Marcus stared, astounded. Such behaviour had never been seen at the Ordoghaz – Viktor did not like children until they proved useful, his love for Sonja having allowed him to pat her on the head and give her gifts, but he never _played! _ The parents were clearly having just as much fun as the girl, laughing and smiling at her youthful antics._

_Lucian looked up to see Marcus and Michael looking at him as though something heavy had just dropped on their heads. He picked the girl up and placed her in her mother's arms. Sonja wrapped the blanket around her daughter and crooned to her softly as she rocked her in her arms. Michael watched as the girl's eyes grew heavy, losing the wide-eyed excitement he had seen while the girl played with her father. The girl cuddled closer to her mother, and fell asleep. Sonja smiled gently, brushing the hair away from her daughter's forehead. _

_Michael found it difficult to reconcile the caring mother figure in front of him with the angry warrior princess he had known. But somehow, they were both Sonja – only, one was loved, were the other had not been._

"_So, Marcus," Lucian sat behind the desk and motioned Marcus to sit opposite him on the other side. Michael moved to Marcus' side as the Elder sat. He rested his hands in front of him, but made no move to sit himself. "Why are you here? Has Viktor begged to have his slaves return?"_

_The lycans in the tent laughed harshly, but Marcus rose above it. "No, Lucian. Viktor slumbers, and will for another fifty years, unless they awaken him before schedule to tell him what I have done."_

"_And what is that?" Lucian leant back in his seat, surveying the vampire Elder dispassionately; it made no difference to him what Marcus did. He was done with it all; what Viktor wanted was no longer a concern to him._

"_I have left."_

"_I can see that," said Lucian wryly._

"_I mean, I have left and will never return. Those that travel with me are loyal to me, and not to Viktor. His rule since you left has been unbearable. It has been nearly two centuries since you left and still he fears you."_

"_He should," Lucian's voice was quiet, but hard._

"_Those that travel with me wish to leave Viktor's rule. We cannot live at all – he had made rules about everything – he is gearing up for another war."_

"_He lost the last one. While he slept, Amelia led his forces against us and they were destroyed. _

"_He has regrouped, since then many have been added to his numbers," Marcus spoke with a sense of urgency, as though Viktor was riding towards them as they stood talking._

"_And you don't consider yourself one of his numbers anymore, is that it?"_

"_I am the son of Corvinus, the first true vampire, yet I am a prisoner in that place."_

"_What do you want Marcus? You did not leave Viktor's palace and risk the lives of yourself and your people just because Viktor is superior to you now."_

"_He has forbidden me to release William."_

"_Ah, and you think that I will do differently, is that it?"_

"_I don't know," Marcus said truthfully. "We could not stay there anymore, Viktor has become tyrannical. We wanted to be free; we wanted to be like _you."

"_And what do I get in return?" Lucian asked._

"_You get more soldiers. And," Marcus swallowed, about to offer the ultimate betrayal. "I will tell you everything I know of Viktor's plans."_

"_Why should I trust you, Marcus? When you are willing to betray your own?"_

"_They are not my own!" Marcus spat, contemptuously. "Viktor has warped them all – he changes only those that he can turn into his minions. He has even replaced his own daughter." Marcus looked over to Sonja, who was looking at Lucian. Lucian, in turn, looked back._

"_We have heard of this Selene. Is she as good as they say?"_

"_She is better. She has become supremely skilled in the two hundred years since she was turned. Viktor killed her family because her father designed William's prison. He wanted to make sure that neither you nor I would be able to get the keys from him. Then he turned the daughter, because she reminded him of Sonja."_

"_And now she kills us?" Sonja asked._

"_Your father told her that it was _you_ that killed her family, for no other reason than because you could."_

_A youth walked in. Two hundred years old and yet he had not yet reached his majority – he looked to be about sixteen. Only his eyes showed how old he truly was – and how much he had seen._

"_Caleb," Lucian stood up to greet his son._

"_Father," Caleb and Lucian embraced swiftly, before Caleb turned to kiss his mother's cheek and sit beside her, watching as his sister slept. His mother looked at him and Caleb nodded as though answering a question. But no words had been spoken; Michael was very confused. Caleb took the bundle that was his first sister, Imelda, and cradled her in his arms. Sonja stood and walked to stand next to where her husband had once again taken his seat. _

"_So, what do you want, Marcus?" Lucian asked again._

"_We want to join you." A stunned silence followed his proclamation. "We can no longer live under Viktor's regime, but we will not survive alone – we are a small band, but we are good soldiers, fierce. And they are loyal to me. They will be to you, if I ask it."_

_Lucian pondered to a moment. "Leave us a while. I must discuss your request with Sonja and the others." Marcus nodded and swept from the tent, Michael close behind. They were taken back to the others, who were feasting on bladders of blood. _

_It was dangerously close to sunrise, and the vampires were getting nervous, when Lucian and Sonja walked towards them. "We have decided to let you stay," Lucian said. "You will be our equals – slave and master have no place amongst soldiers. You will eat with us, train with us and fight with us. Marcus, you are the first born vampire, I am the first lycan. Your brother is the first werewolf and my son is the first born hybrid. Together, we will make a new world, free of Viktor's tyranny." Lucian extended his hand in front of the entire company, with every vampire, lycan and werewolf present. "What do you say, brother? Will you join us?"_

_Marcus took Lucian's hand and they embraced. Breaking apart, Marcus said, "we will join you, brother. We will make this new world, and we will cast out the tyrannical ways of old."_

Michael shook his head, trying to shake the vestiges of the memory. He knew that the words had been simple enough, but the actions were harder. Ironically, it was Viktor two years later that united them. He rode out with his Death Dealers and laid siege to Lucian's camp. Vampire and lycan fought side by side and defeated Viktor's forces. At the height of battle, when it could not be sure who would win, a vampire had pushed a lycan out of the way of a Death Dealer's sword, taking the blow that nearly killed him. In return, the lycan transformed into a werewolf and tore the Death Dealer's head off. Then, still in wolfen form, he had offered the vampire his paw. When the vampire could not stand, the werewolf picked him up and carried him to the medical tent, before returning to the fray. The vampires and werewolves, inspired by the sight, had begun to fight as a single, cohesive unit, inside of two separate bands. They had defeated Viktor's Death Dealers, leaving few alive. And Pierce and Taylor, the vampire and wolf that had saved each other's lives, had been the best of friends ever since. From what he had been called in the memories, Michael had worked out that the vampire that bit him, whose memories he was reliving, had been Taylor. He could still feel the steel blade cut him to the core, the touch of werewolf fur as he had been carried, barely alive, to his salvation. There was centuries' worth of memories of the two soldiers as they fought, whored and laughed at how close the latest brush with death was.

The werewolf memories also coursed through him, dragging him into unknown times and places. It was not always easy to tell whose memories were whose – Michael sometimes had to ask Selene what she recalled of the battle (she seemed to have been at them all) to figure out whose life he was reliving at that moment.

"Michael?" Selene's voice was low but it made his abuse brain throb. She apologised at the sight of the look of pain on Michael's face and lowered her voice even further, until it was barely a whisper brushing against his skin. "Have some water," Michael could feel a glass being pressed into his hand. A spasm hit and his eyes flew open as he clutched the glass, shattering it. Selene jumped back, barely avoiding having her hand crushed. Glass bit into Michael's skin and he watched his twice-tainted blood trickle down his arm.

"I'm sorry – that was stupid of me," Selene was shaking her head, looking like she was mentally kicking herself. "I don't even know if you should _have _water – your system won't tolerate it if you are a vampire."

"Then why give it to me?" Michael asked, deadpanned.

Selene looked miserable and uncomfortable and Michael regretted giving her such a hard time – she seemed to be the only one on his side, though he was suspicious as to why. "You're changing into a lycan, they can drink water. I just wanted to help," she finished quietly, refusing to look at him.

Michael sighed, then grunted with pain that the movement caused. Selene was by his side in a second, like some vampiric Florence Nightingale. Michael raised his hand to wave her away but she grabbed it and started turning it over – he had waved the glass-ridden hand.

"Bollocks, I'm not very good at this, am I?" Selene looked at him, the sadness in her eyes ruining the attempt at humour. "I've spend so long killing things I don't know how to keep anything alive anymore." She went to a cupboard, took out a First Aid then went to a trolley of medical instruments. Michael bulked as her hand strayed over the scalpels and bone-cutters but she merely picked up a pair of tweezers and walked back to him. She sat on the floor in front of him, his hand resting on his knees, and went to work. Being a vampire meant Michael had an accelerated healing rate. Selene apologised when she said she would have to slit the skin back open to take out the glass. She went back to the wheeled table for a scalpel and Michael grabbed a lamp to shine on his hand to make the work easier for her. Instead the light hurt his eyes and he hissed. Selene looked over and he swore he saw her grin. "Hurts, doesn't it? The light."

"Yeah, it bloody does." Michael set the lamp back on the table, resisting the urge to swipe it off. "Do you mind if it stays over here?" Away from me.

Selene nodded, "fine, I don't actually need it." They settled themselves back into their positions and Michael tried to ignore the sharp pains in his hand – it felt like someone was puncturing Morse Code into his skin: short pinpricks and longer slices.

She worked in silence and before long Selene had every bit of glass out of his skin. She washed the blood off and bathed the hand in a bowl of warm water. Finally, she patted his hand dry.

When Michael lifted his hand to his face seconds later, the cuts were healed. Some had scabbed over, but most of the smaller ones had disappeared completely. Selene took in his look of confounded astonishment, "freaky, huh?" Michael nodded mutely. "Takes some getting used to. When the latest transformation is complete and you're a hybrid, there'll be no limit to what you can do."

"For instance?" Michael asked, turning his hand this way and that.

"For instance ... you can come back from the dead." Michael's head snapped up and Selene nodded seriously. "Caleb, the first hybrid, had his heart ripped out by Viktor nearly two centuries ago, before he slumbered the last time. It was one of the largest battles in recent history. Caleb was left for dead but when Viktor went after Caleb's sister a little while later, Caleb stopped him. His heart had grown back and the wound healed. That's when Viktor decided he wanted his own hybrid."

"His own invincible killing machine," Michael said, hatefully. This Viktor guy had turned his whole world upside down. He didn't remember much of his time in the Ordoghaz but he remembered the deceptively aged man ... and pain. Whenever this Viktor son of a bitch was mentioned, Michael got screwed over. "I'm going to kill him."

"And then what?" Selene asked from the shadows where she leant against the wall watching him. "Believe me, Michael, you do not want to give your life to hate – it destroys everything, makes you cold, unfeeling ... dead."

"He deserves it," Michael spat.

"He does," she agreed. "But trust me on this; you don't want to end up like me." Her tone was so desolate that Michael felt his anger drain away in the face of it.

"I'm sorry you were turned into this," Michael said, and it was Selene's turn to look stunned. All too soon the surprise melted into internal derision.

"Don't be. I chose to be this. I made my choices and this is what they made me."

"I'm still sorry you didn't get to be happy."

"People like me don't deserve to be happy. We kill and maim and torture. This is my hell and I deserve it." She was so sure Michael did not know what to say. He wanted to tell her what he thought – that she was an avenging angel, beautiful as she was terrible, that for some reason decided to save him, something that he would be eternally grateful for, even now when eternity actually meant _eternity._ He wanted to say it, but thought it would sound stupid, especially to her; Selene was not the kind of woman that wanted poetry or beautiful words.

Another spasm hit him, stronger than the others had been since he woke up a vampire. He recognised the feeling from when he was changing the first time, though this seemed to be worse – it felt like his body was being contorted, twisted into new configurations. His skin was stretched tight, his bones cracked and shifted under the skin. He could feel his teeth elongating and becoming serrated, crammed into his mouth which felt too small to contain them.

"Am I changing again?" he ground out.

"I don't know – I've never seen a hybrid change before. The vampire change is difficult – you know that – it feels like you're being turned inside out while being submerged in acid. Lycanthropy is tough as well – I've seen it.

"So . . . I'm in for another rough night?" Michael ran his hands through his hair, clutching his head to keep it from splitting.

Selene shrugged, "I suppose so – it is the full moon tonight. I'll be here . . . if that helps."

Michael was surprised to find it did help – he really did not want to be going through this alone. Even a gun wielding psychopathic vengeance-seeker who abducted people to change their basic DNA and ENTIRE LIFE (!) was better than being left to deal on his own. Though, admittedly, his feelings towards Selene had shifted slightly in light of their recent conversation.

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know. Lycanthropy and vampirism conversions take roughly the same amount of time but lycanthropy is catalysed by the lunar cycle. The conversions take days as every cell in your body is transformed. Singe said they wanted to stagger your conversion to give your body time to adjust to the new viruses, and to control what you became. There seems to be different hybrid types, depending on what you were bitten by first and how long there was between the first infection and the second."

"So, you have no idea what I will become?"

Selene gave a small laugh and Michael was struck by how it changed her – she looked more animated, alive than she had in all the time he had known her, her eyes bright – and said, "no, I guess I don't. I'm as much in the dark as you are. But because you were bitten by the werewolf only hours after being bitten by a vampire, so it should be a pretty even split. You'll look more like this than this or this." She stood up and crossed to a filing cabinet next to a state of the art computer run security system. Taking out three folders, she passed them to Michael; one was labelled 'Caleb', one 'William' and the third 'Marcus'. Opening the folder marked Caleb, he saw a picture of a seriously muscular figure with quicksilver coloured eyes and dark grey-sheen skin, talons and a mouth full of fangs. A second picture showed a man about Michael's age with dark hair, brown eyes and a ripped body, but not as insanely ripped as the other photo. Looking through the other folders he saw William was more canine in appearance, hairier and more bestial. Marcus on the other hand had wings and was more compact in musculature than the other two. Caleb looked more ... demonic than the other two, lacking the dominant gene.

"These are hybrids? Like me?" Michael asked, the folders spread open across his knees and all the photos in his hand. The bewildered expression on his face made him look like a schoolboy completely overwhelmed by a class project.

Selene nodded. "These are active hybrids – hybrids that are active in the war," she clarified when Michael looked confused as to what exactly an 'active hybrid' was. "William was a werewolf for about two hundred years before he became a hybrid. Marcus was a vampire for the same period of time. They are the sons of the first Immortal, Alexander Corvinus. Until bitten by a vampire, William could not transform back into a man and neither could those he infected –that's what started the war."

"Right, you said you would tell me later. I guess this counts as later."

"Do you want to do this now?" Selene asked, concerned. A layer of sweat covered Michael's forehead. Putting her hand on his head he definitely felt feverish. "Maybe we should talk after the –"

"No!" Michael practically screamed. "No, I can't ... I don't want to think about changing again. Please, just keep talking – it might help keep my head together."

"Or it'll freak you the fuck out," Selene observed.

"Selene," Michael started, realising it was the first time he had actually called her by her name, "I have been in a subway shootout, kidnapped and had my DNA irrevocably altered by being bitten by two separate beings that, up until twenty four hours ago, I thought only belonged in horror movies. I am _way _passed freaking out." He leant back in the chair – Selene knew the change would be soon if speeches that long were wearing him out.

"Yeah, I guess you're tougher than I gave you credit for." He looked down at where she was sat on the floor and smiled. She smiled back before saying, "you're gonna need to be, given the fact that you've been dragged kicking and screaming into Hell. If we make it out of this alive, it'll be a miracle."

"See, there you go, ruining the first nice thing you've said to me with a reality check." Michael shook his head with mock disappointment and Selene's smile got bigger.

"Sorry, habit, you know, bringing down the party. So you want to hear the secret fucked up history of the world or not?"

"Ooh, please!" Michael's attempt at camp exuberance was ruined when he winced as a ripple of pain ran through him.

"You okay?" Selene got worried when all Michael did was nod. "Michael, listen to me, you need to talk to me. How bad is the pain?"

"Not bad – it's like it was before the chills, before I changed. Like when that guy first bit me."

"Then it's starting, that's how it goes: cramps, chills, spasms. The pain builds like in childbirth. Except instead of becoming a mother, you end up a nightmare."

"Thanks, Selene, that's really helpful right now." Michael clutched at his stomach as the cramp got worse. He slid to the floor and Selene gathered him up so his head was in her lap. She stroked his fevered brow. "Please, just talk. I need something to focus on," Michael pleaded.

"Okay, well ... I was talking about the hybrids, yes?"Michael nodded. "Right. The war didn't start straight away when the two species were created – like all wars there were multiple causes, then the trigger that set it all alight. Alexander Corvinus contracted a virus that decimated the rest of the population but made him alone Immortal."

"Lucky guy," Michael tried to joke, but his lips were turning white from the pain.

Selene pulled him closer and racked her brain – it seemed to be working slower and slower the more pain Michael was in. "Later he fathered three children, Marcus, William and Hector, all of whom inherited the gene that made them immortals. Marcus was bitten by a bat and became the first vampire, William by a wolf so he became the first werewolf, a true lycanthrope, unable to return to human form. The third brother, Hector, was unbitten by any animal and so did not change; he lived and died a human."

"Why didn't he live like this father, just an immortal?"

Selene shrugged, "I don't know. Singe thinks it's because he lacked a catalyst. The other three all had viruses that affected their DNA – Alexander was human until he was infected by the virus that made him immortal, William and Marcus carried the gene, but it did not take effect until they were infected by a disease carried by the bat and wolf. These viruses were all mutated to benefit the carrier – by benefit I mean it failed to kill them, no one could call this life a _benefit_ otherwise." Selene felt a clammy hand squeeze her own and looked down to find the young man trying to comfort her even as the pain racked his body. She squeezed back, gently, not wanting to cause more pain. "Hector was not infected so the gene was never activated. It just lay dormant, as it has for hundreds of years until it got to you."

"So, the –the th-th-three brothers led their di-dif-different lives – what w-w-went wrong, coz this is a s-s-serious fam-family feud." Michael's teeth chattered as his body temperature suddenly plummeted. Selene looked all around her but there was no blanket nearby and she did not want to leave him to find one. She leant against the wall, pulling Michael up against her chest and wrapping her limbs around him.

"William became crazed. He could not change back and he attacked many," Selene continued in Michael's ear. "Those bodies that were not destroyed rose again, made into creatures like him, pure werewolves. Marcus realised he could do the same, and to stop his brother he bit a warlord, Viktor, to gain control over his armies. Decades later, a queen from a warrior tribe in the North, Amelia, was also recruited. They tracked William across the countryside, destroying the defiled bodies as they went. Along the way, Viktor's wife died giving him a daughter, Sonja. At the same time, in the dungeons, a world away from the splendour of the palatial suite, a werewolf gave birth to a child that was born human. Viktor called the child Lucian and cared for him. He saw Lucian as a gift – Lucian was the first to be able to transform at will, a lycan not a mindless werewolf. So they grew up together, in the same castle, but miles apart in stature. Lucian was a kind of pet to Viktor, an interesting project. Sonja grew up wilful and defied her father in many things, including in who she loved."

"She fell in love with Lucian," Michael's voice was weak, but Selene heard, and nodded. Michael turned in her arms, resting his head on her shoulder, tucking himself into the foetal position.

"Yes, they conceived a child. But they did not tell Viktor this. Lucian had gone outside the castle walls to save Sonja from the still-bestial werewolves and Viktor became displeased with him – Lucian fell from favour. He roused the other lycans and they escaped, but Lucian was tricked into thinking Sonja was in danger and this time returned to the castle to save her. Sonja begged her father not to kill Lucian – she told Viktor that they were in love. Viktor was furious and ordered Sonja to be locked in her room while Lucian was killed – wanting to protect his daughter, he said nothing of her liaison with Lucian to the Council and Lucian was sentenced for betraying his vampire masters, and trying to overthrow them. Viktor underestimated their love for one another, or rather, Sonja's love for Lucian. He had seen Lucian risked his freedom and his life to protect Sonja, but I don't think he really understood how Sonja felt for Lucian. She did the single bravest and dumbest thing she could do. Knowing she couldn't save Lucian on her own, she escaped from her room and went to the lycans."

"How did she know where they were?" Michael started to shiver – Stage Two – though his body temperature had stabilised, so Selene took off her jacket and laid it over him.

"The original plan had been for Lucian to leave and for Sonja to follow a few days later. But Sonja's lady-in-waiting was sent to tell Lucian that Viktor had found out about the two of them. Fearing the worse he returned and was captured. When Sonja escaped, she went to the place they had agreed to meet – and was met by several dozen lycans and werewolves that Lucian had managed to communicate with. Initially, they did not believe her, thinking it was a trap for them all. Only Raze's help saved her life – he believed her and it made the others stop long enough for them to listen and be persuaded to. Together, the lycans, werewolves and the vampire princess stormed the castle. The Council and most of the vampires inside were slaughtered. While the two armies were busy fighting, Sonja saved Lucian and they were confronted by Viktor. Lucian and Viktor fought and Viktor was defeated, but not before learning that his child had been impregnated by one he once called his slave. Viktor managed to escape with the other two slumbering elders, Marcus and Amelia and the lycans ruled the day."

"What about William? Where was he in all this?" Michael's eyes were closed by this point – the light hurt them and it was easier to concentrate on Selene's voice if his other senses were not being used.

Selene sighed, she sounded tired, almost ... broken. "Viktor had wrestled control over the vampires from Marcus – Marcus was the first, but Viktor had the armies. Amelia always sided with the stronger, so Marcus was left unaided. William was captured and Viktor commissioned a dungeon to be built in the deepest foundations of the castle Viktor lived in as a human – a near-forgotten place that had been abandoned for years. The architect was my father. He completed the construction never knowing what it was for, or that he had just condemned everyone he loved. William was imprisoned there and two keys were made – one Viktor had himself, the other was worn by Sonja. I was a little girl when it was built. Marcus' deepest desire was to save his brother, so when he awoke, he took the vampires still loyal to the First True Vampire and joined Lucian and Sonja – they became the Vycans, neither vampire, nor lycan, but a community of both. Viktor was awakened at once and the war entered the second stage – the stage it has been in for six hundred years, where Viktor's army fights the vycans to destroy us all.  
When I was twenty one the war spilled into my house. The vycans came and slaughtered everyone I cared about. My mother, father, sister, my nieces. I woke to the sounds of screaming. I ran to my nieces' room but it was too late; the screams stopped before I got there – twin girls, barely six years old, butchered like animals." Selene's voice slowed to a stop. Michael could feel her shaking behind him, though he did not think it was with anger.

"Jesus," Michael seemed unable to say more.

"Viktor found me, holding my sister's body – I thought I could save her but she had lost too much blood. She kept muttering about demons coming after her children. The sight of their mutilated bodies had driven her insane.  
When he found me I was all alone, I had no family left alive – they were scattered in pieces around me. He told me the vycans had done it for vengeance – my father had built the prison that had held William and Marcus wanted to punish him for it. And I wanted to punish those that had sinned against me. When Viktor offered me the chance of eternity to set things right I took it, I had nothing to stay human for and I never regretted it. Until you came along. Suddenly I wonder if it had been better to die that night, rather than become what I have, rather than to help destroy another person's existence just because I can." Selene looked down at Michael and was surprised to see that his eyes were open and fixed on her. "I have killed more beings over the last six centuries than I can count, I have maimed and tortured and condemn, but only you have ever made me question whether it is worth it."

"Sorry." He did look genuinely apologetic.

"Don't be, you made me feel again. Not always made me feel good, but still, it's better than numbness I suppose."

"Give me a few days and I'll work on that."

"Almost comatose and still hitting on me. Typical bloke." Selene said with a grinned.

Michael closed his eyes and smiled back, "thanks. So what about Caleb?"

"He is Sonja and Lucian's son – an exact blend of vampire and lycan, which is why neither species are more dominant in his appearance."

"Right, the other two – one was furry, the other had wings."

"Yes, William was found and bitten by Sonja after Caleb's birth – he was able to transform back into a man, but when he transformed after the change it was into a hybrid. The same with Marcus – his bat side is more dominant, hence the wings."

"Are there others?"

"Yes, Lucian and Sonja are still as in love now as they were six centuries ago, but vampire pregnancies are rare. Sonja managed to have four children – the firstborn, Caleb, then three girls; Imelda, Elizabeta and Helena. The girls are not so active in the war but Caleb is a good leader – he has made his own reputation outside of his fame as the first born hybrid." She spoke with grudging respect of her foe.

"How do you know all their names?" Michael asked. Everyone knew everyone else, and _him,_ but there had not been a name tag in sight.

"We know all of them, they know all of us. We are a small percentage of the population and we have been fighting for a long time – it gives you time to learn names. Also makes infiltration easier, which both sides have found, to their loss." Selene stroked Michael's hair absent-mindedly, her cheek on his head.

"So that's the whole story?"

"Yep. That's it."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna hurl." Michael lurched to the side and vomited. Any food that had been in his digestive system was now on the floor. "Sorry."

"Don't be silly – this isn't your fault, you're the least blameworthy person in this situation." Helping him to stand and holding on to him as he took shaky steps, Selene led him to another room – a bedroom. She lay him down on the bed, removing his boots and jacket. "I know it's tough, but try to sleep." She turned to leave but Michael's hand shot out.

"Don't go. Stay with me, please. You promised." Selene nodded and sat on the bed next to him. Michael rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his torso.

It was a long night. The higher the moon got in the sky, the worse Michael got. Finally, at midnight, they reached critical mass. Michael's back arched as the pain that had been building for hours reached an excruciating peak. He screamed and hit the bed with his fists; Selene tried to hold him down but was no match for the strength of a hybrid in mid-change. So instead, she changed tactics, going with it instead of fighting against the change. She let Michael go and fetched a cloth to wipe away the sweat and the blood from his body where Michael had clawed at his skin. It was not easy, but it was harder to sit back and do nothing; without meaning to, Selene had gotten in much deeper with Michael than she had ever meant to – she could not leave him now if she tried.

Her strength was failing her when the lights went out and the door to the apartment was blown open.


	7. Chapter 6

_Sorry it's been a while but I've been off the Underworld kick. Here you go._

_Review please._

Chapter Six

Two days earlier.

"Still no word from Raze?" Lucian was once again stood on his balcony – he did his best thinking here, away from confinements. The briefing had finished over twelve hours ago and Lucian was thinking of his oldest friend and best lieutenant. Raze had been there from the beginning, since before the revolution. He turned, his hands stuck in his pockets. Caleb stood by the door, in a similar pose to his father.

"Not yet." Caleb walked over to Lucian and leant against the balcony. He faced his father while Lucian continued to stare at the almost full moon – two more days and the lycan strength would be at its height_. _

"Worried?" Caleb asked, since they were alone.

"It's Raze – he'll be fine. He always is." Lucian sounded nonchalant, but Caleb could see the tension in his shoulders.

"It's full moon in two days – Raze will be stronger, if he can make it that long. He'll make it out if the vampires took him prisoner."

Lucian nodded – he knew all that, but it still felt good to have someone else say it. "Are your men ready?"

Caleb nodded, "yes. Unless Raze turns up with Corvin, the team will be dispatched in ten hours to be at his apartment for half five tomorrow morning. If he did go to his shift at the hospital – which is probably likely as he had no idea the vampires were after _him_ – he'll want to get to his bed. I know I'd want to sleep, if I experienced my first shootout, followed by a twenty-four hour shift in A&E."

"Are you sympathising with the human, Caleb?"

Caleb shrugged, noncommittal, "it's not his fault he got caught up in all this – he probably thought we were all just nightmares and he was like anyone else. He has no idea he is special. Viktor dragged him into this war – we should at least give him a chance as to what he wants to be."

"He doesn't have to be a monster, is that it?" A slight smirk came over Lucian face – he was not mocking his son, he was just remembering how much like that he used to be, so idealising, always thinking if he could only have the _choice..._

"No, he doesn't. He doesn't have to be Viktor's fucking toy. A weapon! The kid's a bloody doctor – he chose to _save _people, it'll destroy him to have Viktor twist him to his purpose." Caleb was getting riled. His hands came out of his pockets to gesture wildly as he paced up and down the balcony. Suddenly, he stopped. He seemed drained of the furious energy that had consumed him a moment ago and his shoulders slumped. "How many people is Viktor going to condemn? Why can't he just leave us alone? We only want freedom, the right to live. Why did he have to pursue this war so long?"

"Because he is a warlord," Lucian came to stand beside his son again. "He was born a warlord and the centuries of cruelty and fighting served only to strip away any humanity he had. To let us be free would be to make himself weaker – so instead, like a caged animal, he fights. He will fight to the bitterest end."

"It doesn't make sense." For once Caleb sounded as young as he looked.

"Doesn't it?" Lucian looked at his son. "Wouldn't you fight to keep all you have ever known?"

"But when you know it will end in your death?" Caleb frowned.

"Is when we fight the hardest," Lucian told him. "I would have done the same, in Viktor's place – fought and kept fighting, no matter the cost. We are not so different from Viktor, you know, Caleb – we are soldiers, too. We merely fight for a different reason."

"We fight to protect those we love, to keep our family alive."

"And he fights to protect those that call him their leader, to avenge himself of the family he lost."

"He chose to lose us."

"He just didn't know how to accept change."

"He couldn't accept me." Caleb sounded so sad, so lost, that Lucian wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders. His son never spoke of how his grandfather's reject had hurt him, or the burden he carried, but Lucian saw it still. He wanted Caleb to tell him, so that he could help him, but he knew he never would. Caleb hugged him back, resting his weight on his father for a second – it had been a long time since he had let so many shields down to let someone in.

"Father? Caleb?" A female voice came to them from across the room once more – it was Lucian and Sonja's eldest daughter, Imelda. The two men broke apart and looked toward the ageless woman; she was rushing, desperate to reach them quickly. "It's Raze; he's back. He's hurt badly and he's got Trix with him."

"How is Trix?" Lucian asked.

"Not good – he's dead." It hit them like a punch to the gut. Trix had been a good man – recently engaged. "Mother's talking to Siobhan now." Siobhan was the fiancée – she had risked lycanthropy to be with Trix. A mere six months ago she had let him bite her, putting her life on the line so they could spent eternity together. Now he was dead.

"Let's get down to the infirmary. We will grieve for Trix, but not now. Now is the time for the living." With these words, Lucian led his children to the infirmary wing of the mansion. There were a couple of doctors working on Raze – by the time the three immortals got there, Raze had been stitched and bandaged and given enough adrenaline to get him through the necessary questioning before he crashed.

"What happened?" Lucian wasted no time with preliminaries and Raze responded in kind.

"We kept an eye on them, like you said. They were tracking the human. We got to the platform and the fight broke out. We lost sight of the human – I'm sorry, Lucian, but it was difficult enough just trying to stay alive. We were outnumbered three to two. We lost Trix, but we took two of them. The third, a woman – Selene, I think she was – escaped; she didn't have the human either. I stayed in the shadows long enough to see that he wasn't there – he had got distracted saving a collateral casualty so he may have gotten on the train, or grabbed an ambulance ride to the hospital. Either way, I'll bet that's where he's headed."

"You did well. Rest- we have it all under control, but you will be out of the next few missions." Lucian clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, grimacing in apology when Raze winced at the pain this comfort caused. Turning to his son, Lucian said, "the team still goes to the apartment. Send another to the hospital to see if he's there."

"And the team to the Ordoghaz?" Caleb asked.

Lucian looked at Raze for the answer, who obliged. "Wait until the other teams return – we can't afford to send out too many for one man, we'll end up running into each other. Find out where he is first, and then send in the retrieval squad."

"A sound plan," Lucian nodded. "Either of those two teams may find Corvin. If not then we will regroup and look to the Ordoghaz for answers." Caleb nodded to his father and Raze and turned on his heel. He left the room quickly, Imelda on his heels.

When he entered the conference room, the soldiers within snapped to attention. Motioning them to relax, he organised the teams – three to Michael's apartment, two to the hospital. As a public place, they could not send a large team and a pair of 'police officers' would make enough of a wave. By this time it was nearly dawn. Caleb sent the chosen five off to their respective missions and sent the remainder to their beds – a glad end to a long day.

The next four hours were brutally long. The two sent to the hospital confirmed that he had been there but they had just missed him – a colleague, Dr Lockwood, said Michael was on his way home. About seven in the morning, the three sent to the apartment came back with more useful information. They had just missed Michael at his apartment – because a certain female Death Dealer had been there before them. The lycans had gone to the roof, while the vampire of the three, Morgan, had gone to the ground floor to prevent the human's escape. He had been attacked by the Death Dealer and had bitten Michael, thus starting the chain of transformation.

"And so it begins," Caleb murmured. He did not berate Morgan – the vampire was lucky to be alive a six direct hits, and they had all decided that Michael being left human while all Hell broke loose around him was basically sentencing the guy to death. Since the whole point was to save him, Lucian had ordered Michael to be bitten if the opportunity arose, to give the guy some kind of defence, after the change at least. "Good work, men. Get cleaned up and get to bed." He turned to the supposedly police officers, "you too. You all did very well."

"Sir," Williams – one of the lycans sent to the apartment – spoke up. "What about Corvin, sir? The Death Dealer took him to the Ordoghaz – Viktor has him now."

Caleb looked at the soldier, "then we will get him back." With that, Caleb left – he had been awake for three days now and he just wanted to sleep.

After sixteen hours of uninterrupted sleep, Caleb returned to the conference room. The soldiers from last night's missions were there, as well as his parents and a few others. Raze was there – bandaged but stubborn. "Have you been briefed of last night's events?" he asked his parents. They nodded. "Good, I'm getting tired of everything being repeated." He sat heavily in his seat. "So what now?"

"You asked to lead the team and so you will. You will lead a crack team to the Ordoghaz, wait there for any sign of the hybrid. He will be there now, and we need to monitor his activities. We know the layout, so once you have confirmed the target's presence, access the infirmary through the garage and snatch Corvin. Bring him here. Kill anyone who gets in your way, but do it quietly – the whole point is for them not to know we've infiltrated the place. It's midday so the place will be asleep. Lycans and hybrids only for this mission – we can't risk the vampires being exposed to sunlight."

Caleb chose his fellow hybrid William – Marcus wanted to go, but the vampire gene in him was too strong to withstand sunlight for long – Pierce and Morgan (good soldiers, though Pierce complained bitterly that Taylor could not join them), Caulfield (ass-kicking doctor, very useful) and Dougherty (good in tight spots). They got geared up and Caleb looked to his father. "What if they take him somewhere else? One of their safe houses in the city?"

"Follow them and retrieve him from there. Let's hope they do that – it'll be easier than taking on the lion's den, even if all the lions are sleeping." Sonja always had a plan – something else she passed on to her son.

He looked at his men – they all nodded their understanding. He turned to his mother, "affirmative. We're heading out."

"Caleb, can I see you for a second?" Sonja's voice was soft, but it brook no argument.

He looked surprised, but still nodded. "Wait for me in the van – and don't go anywhere," he threw at his men.

"Aww, shucks. We were gonna hit a strip joint!" Dougherty pretended to pout, making the others laugh. Caleb smiled – he rarely laughed – and nodded his head to the door. The soldiers filed out, leaving mother and son alone.

"What is it, Mother?" Caleb did not mean to sound so harsh, but things had been weighing on him lately – the fate of Michael Corvin, his own existence, the way they were intrinsically tied, the burden of leading, and of his own guilt. It was beginning to get to him. That scared him.

"Why do you do it, Caleb?" his mother's voice was sad – she sounded heartbroken, almost.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself on the front lines all the time?"

"I was born on the front lines, Mum! My birth _created _the front lines!"

"This war is not your fault!"

"But it is my problem! I have to be on the front lines – I have to be there, to stop others paying for what I did!" he was losing control.

"What did you do, Caleb? I don't understand!"

"I exist! That's what I did! I was created and the whole world went to Hell! Father decided to throw off the yolk of oppression and you joined him because you were pregnant, creating this army."

"I left because I knew I couldn't hide my pregnancy forever – I knew that Viktor would harm you. You were a threat to his reign, but so was everyone else with power, and grit. Marcus. Your father. William. He fears you all!" Sonja walked to her son and cupped his face in her hands. When he tried to keep his eyes on the ground, she tilted his head back so that his chestnut eyes were forced to fix on hers. "You are my son. And this is not your fault! It is never anyone's fault that they are born." She kissed his forehead, "you can only do the best with what you have been given, and you have done phenomenally. I am so proud of you. So is your father."

"But I'm not." Caleb's voice was drained of any animation – he was so tired. "Every time I close my eyes, I see the ones I have killed. I don't remember what it is like to sleep and not dream of those I have lost." He slumped into the nearest seat. "I just want it to be over now. I want this war over."

"Maybe Michael Corvin will do that. Just as you hailed our victory over Viktor, so, too, perhaps, Michael will spell out his downfall." She sat next to her son, taking his hand in hers.

"I hope you're right, Mum. I really do." Caleb felt her squeeze his hand and he squeezed back.

"Sooo, maybe, once the fighting is over with you maybe, I don't know ... settle down?"

Caleb rolled his eyes, feeling a weight suddenly lift – no matter what his problem, his mother would always manage to shift the conversation to the topic of his impregnating some immortal woman. It was nice to know some things never changed. He stood and kissed his mother on top of her head. "I must go – this may be my last mission in this war. Maybe the final Big Fight is just around the corner." He grinned at his mother, who frowned.

"Be care what you wish for."

Caleb walked to the door, "I know."

"And be careful."

Caleb walked out of the room, "always am."

"Love you."

Caleb was down the corridor but Sonja still heard, "love you, too."

The ride to Viktor's mansion was uneventful. Male banter was thrown around, mothers' insulted, things insinuated about partners. When they reached the Ordoghaz, their demeanour changed; they went from a group of friends to a small unit of soldiers – they were quiet, disciplined and watchful. They waited. Sometime in the mid afternoon, they saw the gates to the driveway open and an Audi TT take the corner onto the road at fifty miles an hour. Inside, Caleb's hybrid eyes picked out the infamous Selene and ... Michael Corvin. Caleb threw the van into gear and followed with caution. Selene led them to an abandoned building. When she got Michael out of the car, he looked weak and was shivering.

"Taylor bit him over twenty four hours ago – the change should have been complete by now," Caulfield observed.

"Unless," Caleb paused. This thought was not necessarily good – things were progressing faster than any of them had ever imagined.

"Unless?" Pierce prompted. All eyes were on Caleb but he kept his gaze on the building in front of him.

"Unless, while he was in the Ordoghaz, he was bitten by a werewolf. Now he's a vampire going through the lycanthropy cycle – this time tomorrow he'll be a hybrid."

Morgan's eyes widened and he clamped his hand on Caleb's shoulder. Spinning in his seat, the hybrid looked at his soldier. "Yes?"

"A few days ago, a werewolf went missing. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but neither did it make sense. What if the vamps kidnapped a werewolf, so they could change Michael without leaving the Ordoghaz?"

"How long ago was this?" Caleb asked.

"A week maybe. I didn't mention it, because, like I said, it didn't seem like a big deal. We figure, maybe Walsh got tired of the war and left. It's happened, but then, he didn't seem the type – Viktor killed his whole pack, the guy lived for revenge."

"Okay, but if they went to all the trouble of kidnapping a werewolf so they could do the whole hybrid transformation, why is Michael being taken out of the Ordoghaz? They don't have to bring him to the wolf, so ... what the hell's going on?" Dougherty asked.

"Maybe someone's breaking rank." Caleb said, ominously.

"So, the question is, is the enemy of my enemy my friend ... or my enemy?"

"I guess that's what we're going to have to find out, Caulfield," Caleb said.

They sat there for a few minutes before Pierce asked, "so, what the hell are we doing now?"

"Waiting," Caleb said, not bothering to elaborate, because ...

"Okay ... why?"

"Selene brought Michael here for a reason. Maybe she's lost faith in Viktor and is trying to save Michael. Maybe she found out that Viktor's the one that killed her family to stop us from getting the second key to William's prison –"

"'cause that worked," Taylor said sarcastically.

Caleb gave him a look that sent him mumbling into silence, before continuing, "and is now taking Michael to get revenge on Viktor. Since we don't know, I don't want to turn up on her doorstep with a shitload of guns asking to see Michael. We'll probably just get ourselves killed. So, for the moment, until something happens, we wait."

They waited until nightfall. The sun had barely been set for a minute when a van, similar to their own, came screeching round the corner. Vampires leapt out of the vehicle and stormed the abandoned building Selene had taken Michael into.

"That counts as something happening, right, boss?" Dougherty clicked the safety off on his pistol as he spoke.

"Fuck yeah," Caleb got out the door, sprinted to the building, guns in hand before the others had even picked up their weapons. But they soon caught up. Above, the sound of gunfire broke out.

"Sounds like Selene is putting up a fight against her own!" Morgan panted, as they sprinted up the stairs.

"Then let's give the bitch a hand!" Caleb yelled back.

They reached to top floor where the fire fight was taking place. Caleb whistled and got the Death Dealers' attention – he hated shooting people in the back. "You know, seven guys against one girl doesn't seem fair. We're here to even up the odds." They opened fire and ultraviolet ammunition slammed into the enemy vampires. They quickly disintegrated into burnt out husks.

They had been firing through the walls and door.

"Seems a bit redundant now, doesn't it?" Caulfield said, motioning towards the door.

Caleb shrugged and knocked anyway. The door crashed to the floor to reveal Selene in a crouch, reloading her Berretta, a singularly confused expression on her face.

"Anyone got a quip that might work at this point?" Taylor asked, looking around.

"Can't say I do," Dougherty said.

Very confused now, Selene straightened out of her crouch, but did not loosen her grip on her weapon – and she kept it pointed at Caleb. Behind her, a weak Michael Corvin stumbled into view. He looked like hell, but then he had been through two, very painful, transformation in the last 48 hours. "How are you here?" Selene asked, frowning.

"We drove," Morgan said.

"I think the emphasis was on the _here_ not the _how_ – I think she wants to know how we knew where to go." Selene nodded at Caleb's remarks.

"Oh, we followed you from the Ordoghaz."

"Then why-" Selene began, but Caleb cut across her.

"Let's do this back at the mansion, shall we?" he suggested.

Selene backed towards Michael, who grabbed her hand when she reached behind her. "Why should we –"

"We're guessing that you saved Michael from Viktor, which is why he sent the team after you." Selene said nothing, which Caleb took as confirmation that he was not wrong. "You can't keep Michael alive on your own. You'll have to trust us if you want to live."

The two – the Death Dealer and the newborn hybrid – looked at each other. Michael gave a what-other-choice-do-we-have? shrug. "Okay," Selene said, "we can do that."

"We'll come with you," Michael said, wishing his voice was stronger. "But you're not splitting us up – Selene and I are sticking together no matter what. Right?" The question was aimed at Selene; as though Michael did not quite know the answer. Selene smiled and nodded. Unseen by the vycan soldiers, she squeezed his hand.

They stepped over the desiccated corpses and were bundled in to the van. Selene sat with her arm around Michael propping him up. The forty minute drive was long enough for Michael to fall asleep and his head lolled on Selene's shoulder. She did not seem to mind. On the contrary, she leant her cheek on his head when this happened and shut her own eyes, thought Caleb, who was sat opposite them having forsaken driving for the ability to keep an eye on the pair of them, noticed that she never let go of the gun in her hand, and tensed to every small noise, every shift in weight that might precede an attack, ready to defend. Caleb had to admit, the girl was good.

Back at the mansion, Sonja thought about the conversation she had had with Caleb that evening. It was not the first time they had had this talk. She thought about the revealing little chat before this Michael Corvin chapter opened up.

'_I don't understand why you take such an active part in this war,' Sonja watched as her son checked his weapons._

'_Because I must,' Caleb really did not want to have this conversation now. Again._

'_As our son you could take a more...political role,' Sonja compromised._

'_Like you did?' Caleb threw a half-smirk at his mother, who tried to frown but could not contain her own smile._

'_You don't have to volunteer for every suicidal mission that comes along.'_

'_Yes, I do, Mother.'_

'_Why?!' Sonja exclaimed._

'_BECAUSE IT'S MY FAULT!' her son thundered._

'_What-' Sonja was unable to finish. Caleb braced himself on the table, his head bowed._

_Caleb closed his eyes, six hundred years of lost friends and failed missions flashing across his eyelids. 'It is all my fault, Mother. Every vycan that dies and every one of Viktor's vampires slain, they are all on my head. My existence cost hundreds their lives.' He lifted his head and looked at his mother with anguish-filled eyes. 'I'm not worth it, Mother. So, I repay them as much as I can – every time I fight is one time someone else doesn't.'_

_His mother crossed the room, grasping bother her son's broad shoulders, unsure of whether to hug him or shake him._

'_This war is not your doing! You did not ask for life – I gave it freely, and with all my heart.' Her son would not meet her gaze so she did shake him until he looked at her. 'If you want to assign blame then do so. But give it where it is due – to me and your father and Viktor. We are the architects! Your father and I knew the risks when we acted on our love. It was your grandfather who began the war, unable to accept the new age that was dawning for our kind.' Sonja released her son's shoulders so she could cup his chin, sweeping the hair away from his face with her other hand. 'Do not blame yourself, my Caleb, you have done nothing but survive.'_

_Caleb nodded. Emotions warring within him meant he did not trust himself yet to speak. His mother kissed him lightly on the cheek before turning to leave. _

She loved all her children, of course, but Caleb would always have a special place in her heart. He needed it; her firstborn, born and raised in the tumultuous first century of the war. Those had been brutal days, when her father still reigned, before Marcus' allegiance gave them some breathing space, when they were merely renegade traitors fighting for one more day of life. Lucian had been on the front lines, recruiting, fighting, becoming the undisputed leader of the lycan horde. Family moments had been rare and precious but Caleb never complained. A born soldier, born of soldiers, Caleb dealt with it by having some new skill or talent to show his father when Lucian came home. And Lucian was always ready with praise - and affection. Unlike her own father who loved according to usefulness, Lucian never tempered his feelings.

Sonja smiled, reminiscing – Caleb had worked hard for his father's approval, but it was the small, unexpected gestures that lit the boy up inside. His father spending the day with him. Lucian telling him a story. The quiet moments, the family moments.

Sonja sighed. She hoped this war was reaching its end – she missed those moments.


	8. Chapter 7

_Okay, peoples not reviewing which is sad, though thanks to those who favourite, etc – you is awesome! Here is chapter seven (duh!). Just to let you know that there are only a few more chapters before the end – I've finished chapter nine just now and there will probably only be a couple more after that so...hey! We're nearly there. _

_Never fear, or fear greatly, 'cause I already had a sequel in place! Yeah, I know, I can't get my brain to stop. I have tried. But I like me little Caleb and there was a lot more to his character that I could not go into in this story because he's a character I made up, not central to the story yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, just to let you know, if you want it, I will writes it. I will writes it anyway probably but if you REVIEW and tell me what you think then I will upload it/keep it the hell away from you as you guys indicate._

_REVIEW OR I IS SAD! (Iz also spending too much time on lolcats but that's another story – must get back to proper grammar!)_

Chapter Seven

The former Death Dealer and the newborn hybrid were met by Marcus. The vycans wanted to present someone both their guests could identify with - being greeted by Lucian and Sonja may be pulling out the big guns early and could be met with hostility.

'Welcome, brother. Selene.' Marcus welcomed them with his arms spread wide and a smile on his face. Michael continued to look around him, slightly awed by the splendour. Selene nodded in Marcus' direction but her eyes were on the guards at every door. 'Come, sleep. We can discuss things when you are rested.' Selene continued to be suspicious so Marcus added, 'I promise, none shall harm you in this house. You have my word. And the word of Sonja and Lucian.'

Selene snorted to show how little two vampiric turncoats and a lycan's word meant to her. Marcus' eyes narrowed and his lips thinned but he said nothing – now was not the time for conflict.

Michael turned to follow the vycan charged with taking the pair to a room but stopped. Selene was still locking gazes with Marcus; Michael took her hand and tugged her away – Selene kept Marcus' gaze for as long as possible but eventually turned and was led away.

'Separate, or together?' the vycan ahead of them asked.

'Together,' Selene said before Michael could open his mouth. Michael looked at the unnamed vycan but he merely nodded and led them on.

'Here we go.' The vycan opened a door to reveal a room decorated in blue. There was a door in the room that the vycan said was the en suite bathroom. Heavy drapes blocked the deadly sunlight, so Selene stepped in the room to survey it. Michael walked in after her and his eye was drawn to the large double bed; he had not slept in so long – not properly since before the subway shootout – and he just wanted to crash. He looked at Selene who had caught him staring longingly at the bed. She raised an eyebrow and Michael looked away, blushing.

'Clothes are in the drawers, help yourself. Someone will come and get you in a few hours.' The vycan left, shutting the door behind him.

'You shower first – you look like hell,' Selene said, rummaging through drawers and looking at him. She threw sweats, socks and a wifebeater at him. To his intense surprise, and despite his exhaustion, Michael caught them. Shuffling off to the bathroom, Michael found towels, soap shampoo, everything.

He took his time washing, trying to get rid of the residue of three abductions, two transformations into supposedly mythical creatures, and general city grime. The water pooled muddy around his feet before draining away. Stepping out of the shower, Michael dried himself off and climbed into the clothes Selene had thrown at him – they were exceedingly comfortable. Now once again warm, dry and clean, with no hint of a cellular transformation in sight, Michael suddenly felt the bone-weary tiredness that the adrenaline of the last couple of days had mostly kept at bay.

He managed to stumble to the bed and barely noticed Selene as he climbed in and fell asleep.

Alexander Corvinus surveyed the video of the bloody aftermath of a subway shootout and wondered what the anger of his children had wrought this time. He thanked God his wife, Helena, was not here to witness this. They had wished for many things the night she brought their twins, Marcus and William, into the world. This was not one of those things.

He sighed. 'Get us back to Budapest,' he instructed no sign of his inner weariness in his tone. 'We have work to do.'

Within the hour, the huge ship _Helena _was cutting through inky black waters.

_Let us hope we get there before we are all discovered, _Alexander prayed. His children and their people were becoming very careless of late. Viktor had grown desperate and Lucian had grown tired of war – now had come for the final push.

The question was, was this the push that would shove the world into Hell?

Michael woke up disorientated. He did not recognise the room he was in, or the brunette sleeping lightly next to him – he had not been with a woman since Samantha died.

Then it all came crashing down on him; this richly furnished blue room was one of many in the vycan stronghold; the woman next to him was a vampire, Selene. A Death Dealer gone rogue to be precise. She had kidnapped him, then rescued him, then been abducted _with _him to end up here, in this wonderfully soft bed.

Michael reached over and gently brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen across the vampire's fair countenance. So feather light was his new hybrid touch that the veteran assassin did not stir.

She was actually very beautiful, Michael realised. Once you focused on the face and not the guns she usually had pointed at your head. She had high cheekbones and full, lush lips. Though they were closed now, Michael knew there were piercing chestnut eyes behind those pale lavender-tinted lids.

Michael got out of bed when he heard the noise that had woken him – a heartbeat, coming this way.

A heartbeat ten feet away had woken him from a dead sleep. Christ, his life really was different now.

The heartbeat came closer – the only one nearby, Michael realised – and Michael rolled from the bed, finding himself instinctively tensing into a crouch. A snarl clawed out of his throat, waking Selene.

She saw him, ready to lunge, and sprang out of bed. She was dressed similarly to him in sweats, thick socks and a tank top. She leant into a crouch next to him. 'What is it?' she asked, her voice hushed in the deadly silence.

'One heartbeat, six feet away and getting closer,' Michael breathed.

Selene strained to hear, then, there it was. Lycan, stronger than a human's. A vampire would not have a heartbeat.

'Alone?' Michael asked.

Selene listened again. 'Seems so – no second set of footsteps.' Michael nodded.

The person reached the door and knocked. Selene and Michael exchanged a look – if someone wanted to attack them, they would not knock first.

Selene, being the most experienced, straightened up and grabbed a gun. She clicked the safety off and chambered a round. She held up the gun and opened the door.

The vycan on the other side looked startled at being confronted by a glowering, gun-wielding babe and a snarling doctor. Still, to give the guy credit where credit was due, he wiped the look off his face and replaced it with one of polite hospitality. 'The Council is waiting for you in the conference room. If you want a shower and a change of clothes, I can give you ten minutes. Otherwise, follow me.'

Selene looked at Michael. 'Eight minutes,' she said to the vycan then shut the door in his face. She dragged Michael to the bathroom and kicked the door closed. 'Right,' she whispered in his ear. 'This is how we're going to play it. We're going to go in there and listen to what they say. If we don't like it, we get the fuck out of here, okay.'

'And if we do like it?' Michael whispered back.

'I'm one of Viktor's elites, Michael," Selene said sadly, 'and these guys killed my entire family. This isn't going to be nice and easy.'

Michael nodded, uncomfortable. Selene had shared the entire history of their world but she had not shared her own. Michael did not really understand what they were still doing here; if she was expecting them to waltz out when the meeting went south why had they not leave before now?

Selene went into the other room, gathering up their things. Indifferent to Michael, Selene stripped off the soft clothes she had worn to bed and climbed into her jeans, hoodie and boots. Michael had respectfully turned around when he realise she was undressing and turned back to see her strap several guns and knives about her person. 'Get dressed,' she said to him, throwing his clothes to him.

She was so busy checking and rechecking her gear that she did not pay attentions as Michael hesitantly stripped out of one set of clothes and clambered awkwardly into the other.

Exactly eight minutes after she had snapped the door shut, Selene opened it again. 'We're ready,' she said to the vycan who was stood in the same place as before, now wearing a slightly pissed off look on his face.

'Follow me,' he said in clipped tones. He walked briskly down the corridor, Selene and Michael following in his wake. Selene's eyes were constantly on the move, checking out every entry point and person in the place. Michael walked mutely, more concerned with how the mud, blood and grime had stiffened his jeans, making them seriously uncomfortable to wear.

'_What _are you doing?' Selene hissed at him when she saw how he was walking.

'My jeans are giving me a wedgy,' Michael whispered, shaking his hips. Selene rolled her eyes but said nothing more.

Across the city, Viktor walked with Singe to the Infirmary. He was in high spirits – he was one his way to meet his salvation after spending a few delightful hours with the nubile Erika.

Walking into the Infirmary, Viktor saw...nothing. No Selene. And no Michael.

'Where are they?' Viktor demanded. Singe shrank back against the wall behind him.

'I don't know, my Lord,' Singe shuddered.

'Check her room – she may have taken Mr Corvin for a little bed rest,' Viktor leered, making Singe shift anxiously.

Singe returned a few minutes later, swallowing hard and pale beyond the usual vampiric pallor. 'She's not in her there, my Lord. No one knows where she is. Erika saw her before coming to you. Selene was getting some clothes for Michael but no one has seen her since.'

'When was this?' Viktor asked sharply.

Singe checked his watch. 'About nine hours ago now, Sir.'

'Check the garage,' Viktor commanded, a horrible thought forming.

'Yes, Sire,' Singe nodded, practically fainting with fear, praying that Selene's car was there. She could have taken him to the dojo – Selene was a killing machine and she may have taken the opportunity to show Michael some of the weapons he would be using. The thought had not even finished forming before Singe was dismissing it. Something told him that he would not be so lucky.

He looked into the garage, taking five seconds to see that Selene's Audi TT was not in its place. He wished there was someone else to tell Viktor that Selene had apparently spirited their last hope away.

'My Lord,' Singe said. 'Her car is not there.'

'WHAT!' Viktor yelled, his eyes blazing and his teeth bared in fury.

'She is not there, my Lord,' Singe reiterated, terrified.

Viktor glared at Singe until the scientist felt his knees give out, but did nothing more before sweeping out of the room.

Singe collapsed onto the gurney Corvin should be sat on right now. Eighty years ago, dying of cancer, Singe had let Viktor bite him – his science and skill as a doctor in exchange for eternity. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but, not for the first time, Singe wondered whether he should not have just let go and let God.

Viktor summoned his Death Dealers to his stateroom. 'Selene has betrayed us; she has taken Michael Corvin and disappeared. I want every one of you scouring every inch of this city. Find them, and then bring them to me.' Viktor stared at them all. 'Start with the safe houses, then expand your search from there. Go.'

The Ordoghaz emptied and Viktor was left sitting on his throne, staring at the spot where Amelia's sarcophagus was interred, waiting for news.

He remembered a time, six centuries ago. It was a night much like this one – his daughter gone, left to seek help from her lover's lycans. Lucian had escaped only to return when he thought Sonja was in danger. He had been captured.

But Viktor had underestimated his daughter's affection for the first lycanthrope. What he had thought was merely an infatuation with danger was in fact true love. She had snuck out of the castle, risking her life to meet with the newly freed lycan pack. Three days later, when Lucian was due to die, Sonja, the lycans and the werewolves Lucian had made contact with had stormed the castle killing the Council and most of the other vampires inside. They had freed the rest of the lycans and run.

If only Sonja had not gotten involved, Lucian could have been dealt with quietly, without the Council ever knowing of her betrayal. But, due to the love for that _abomination _his slave had implanted in her womb, Sonja had torn their world asunder.

Now, he had been abandoned by his child again. For one of _them. _It burned. Bile rose in his throat.

Selene would be brought back, executed and that Michael Corvin would do what Viktor had initiated him into this world to do.

It was nearly daybreak when his soldiers returned. 'There was evidence of a struggle in one of the safe houses. According to the security tapes, Selene and Corvin were taken away by a band of vycans – led by Caleb.'

'Did they plan it?' Viktor asked.

'There are no phone records and on the tape it looks like the pair was kept under pretty heavy guard.'

'So, they did not go willingly,' Viktor surmised.

'No, sir, we don't believe so,' Kahn, Viktor's head of security, said.

'Good.' If Michael was seized by the vycans, he may have less ill-will towards Viktor. Selene was already dead as far as Viktor was concerned, but Michael could still be brought around.

'Then we must retrieve them,' Viktor said, not sharing Selene's fate with the others – she was highly thought of by the Death Dealers.

'You mean...storm the vycan stronghold?' Kahn asked, appalled.

'Exactly,' Viktor nodded.

'Sir, we can't. They have superior numbers; it will be on their ground. It's tactical suicide.'

'We have the element of surprise,' Viktor said. 'We will succeed – I have seen it happen,' he said, remembering the night Sonja's small band of lycans had rescued Lucian and decimated the vampires, starting this damnable war.

Kahn nodded, unconvinced and scared; he was beginning to think Viktor's obsession had turned into insanity.

The ship docked in the dark waters of a low-rent dock yard. Money was hardly scarce for Macaro's Cleaners, but they never went anywhere prestigious or up-market – anonymity was best achieved when computers and credit cards were _not _involved.

The Cleaners, Alexander Corvinus' task force, headed into the city. They headed to the safe house in the middle of town – police scanners said shots had been heard from the building they knew to be one of Viktor's inner city cubby holes. They dug out silver and ultra-violet slugs, cleaning up the lycan and vampire blood, bagging the medical supplies and surgical tools, the crates of ammunition and the bags of blood. It was not a glamorous job, tidying up after Corvinus' centuries old children but it was necessary. The humans did not, _should not,_ know the truth of the world they lived in.

'The house is cleared, Macaro.'

'Thank you, we're done for the night – you can all go to bed,' Corvinus said. His man, Samuel, nodded, leaving photos and videos taken at the scene on Macaro's desk. Macaro inclined his head and the men left.

He went through it all systematically, those tapes and the earlier ones from the subway. He noted the kills – one vampire of Viktor's and a lycan of Lucian's.

He never let his children know he silently governed and manipulated them, keeping them safe. The ever present guardian.

He wished he could step in, eliminate Viktor and give his blood descendents the chance to live as a family as they should have from the beginning.

But they had not, he had not – he had been blind, seeking to abandon his children when they were uncontrollable. Which is why he had removed himself from their world, their war. He had turned from a parent into a spectre.

They needed to learn to live in this world together. Pushing them into it would not work. They had to figure it out for themselves.

Still, Corvinus thought, there was no reason why he could not give them a few clues. A few...insights.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The meeting room was packed. The Council – Lucian, Sonja, Marcus, William, Caleb, Imelda, Elizabeta and Helena – sat on one side of the table waiting for them.

Selena and Michael were brought in front of them with a guard of six vycans. More vycans were posted around the room.

Elizabeta, the assassin of the vycan horde, sat with her samurai sword unsheathed, the tip stuck in the table as she ran her finger along its honed edge. She had been itchy to meet Selene – according to the intel, Selene was the best fighter Viktor had. She was the best the vycans had (she had not tested her skills against her mother); she wanted to know who would walk away and who would be buried.

Elizabeta sighed. She hated being on the Council – Helena was the politician, not her. Imelda was the doctor, the healer, her exact opposite. She was the killer, the one they send in to deal with a 'problem'. She worked alone on the 'special' kills, not the back alley brawls, but the high class, mission impossible kills. Her last had been that little worm, Demitri, the black market arms dealer with a mansion and more bodyguards than brain cells. She enjoyed a challenge but nothing _was_ a challenge anymore. Part of her wondered if she should just pack it all in like her sister Imelda – get married, spend centuries trying to have babies. No more adventures, no more thrilling highs of the hunts and epic lows of the musings.

In the forties she had taken a stint as a jazz club singer. It had all been to try and get close to a target but when the guy was eliminated she had stayed on. At the time she told herself it was because it would be suspicious if she had left. But it was not just that. She had loved the lights, the sounds. The feeling of being alive. As an assassin, she had always been there for the target's final moment. A wraith, a shadow, that deathly spectre.

Maybe she was too like Selene. Both perfect killing machines that had no place in the coming peace.

Selene looked at them all. Caleb was the spitting image of Lucian but for his mother's eyes. The girls were a more even blend – their build came from their mother but their features were a mixture of the two. They made up the Council because they were the hybrids, the children of the leaders, but they had spent centuries proving their right to be there. From what Selene had gathered, they had been successful.

"Hello Selene, Michael," Lucian said. "It's taken some doing to get you here."

"You had help," Selene said. She had pretty much surrendered when those Vycans turned up at the safe house. It still rankled.

"Yes, we did," said Lucian. "May we ask why you left Viktor and the Ordoghaz?"

"No," she said shortly.

Michael stared between the two of them.

Sonja glared at the younger immortal. Elizabeta stood up tugging the sword out of the table. Selene bent into a crouch, palming a throwing knife.

Helena put her hand on her sister's shoulder while Michael grabbed Selene by the waist. Both restrained women were snarling, fangs bared – Elizabeta had a mouth full like a wolf, Selene had elongated incisors (less but longer).

"Enough," Lucian said. He did not raise his voice but it carried such authority that his daughters took their seats once more and Selene stood up straight. Michael waited a beat to make sure Selene was not about to make a move then put his arm down. The knife disappeared back into the thigh sheath.

"What do you want?" Selene asked. "Why did you drag us here? Why not just kill us?"

Michael looked at her. What she kidding? Michael may be new to this but he was pretty sure you did _not _tell your kidnappers to kill you!

"You chose to come with us," Caleb said. He did not often speak at these meetings – he was a combatant leader, he left politics to Helena. "You knew you could not keep Michael alive on your own. You chose Michael over Viktor and now you have nowhere to go."

Selene did not appreciate the reductionist approach. "There was more to it than that," she bit out.

"There always is," said Caleb dismissively.

"What do you want?" Michael asked. His head was still reeling and, being the newbie, it felt like everyone was speaking a language he was not fluent in yet. They seemed to understand something better than he did, making him lag behind. It was starting to piss him off.

"We want to give you a chance," Lucian said.

Selene snorted. "Give me a chance to do what?" asked Michael.

"To choose your own way," said Lucian. "Viktor wants you as a weapon. I have six hybrids he wants you to kill – four are my children, two are my friends, I want to lose none of them. They have training, experience, they are older and therefore stronger than you; they will kill you. But I don't want to take the chance that you will irreparably harm one of them first.  
"Here are my conditions: you stay out of this fight. Selene tells us whatever we want to know. In exchange, we do not harm Selene," Selene coughed, "or any vampires that lay down their weapons and no longer fight us – they don't have to join us they just have to surrender. After Viktor and any hostiles are eliminated Michael will be free to go wherever he wants. Selene will get us into the Ordoghaz so we can destroy what remains of Amelia."

"Then what will happen to Selene?" Michael asked, throwing Selene a concerned look.

"What happens to her is her decision," Sonja said. "If Selene surrenders with the others then she is free to go. Should she continue to act against us, we will have no choice..."

"...but to hunt me down, huh?" Selene said, folding her arms. "You gonna send that little tramp after me like you sent her after the others?" She indicated Elizabeta.

The rest of the Council looked murderous. Elizabeta smiled as though Selene was amusing her. Caleb stood up, resting his fists on the table in front of him. Everyone but Selene and Elizabeth took a step back.

"You will not speak that way about one of my family again," Caleb said, his voice dangerously soft and low. Even Selene felt a chill down her spine. "Do you understand?"

Selene nodded once.

"We're sorry," Michael said for Selene, "we won't refer to them that way again."

"I was talking to her not you," Caleb said, his burning eyes not moving from Selene's stony face.

"The comment was beneath me," Selene said to him. Turning to Elizabeta she said, "I apologize."

"Accepted," Elizabeta nodded.

Sonja pushed her son back down into his seat. "Do we have a deal or not?" she asked, leaving her hands on her son's shoulders to mask the forced seating.

Selene thought about it. "I hate you people," she said. "I loathe you. I think you're disgusting hypocrites. But I won't lose any more people to you. Yes, we have a deal."

"You're not the only one who has lost," Caleb said. "This is war. People die. How many have you killed, Selene?"

"Too many to remember," Selene said.

"I remember all I killed," Caleb said. "I remember everyone I've lost. It's the least they deserve."

"You deserve nothing," Selene spat. "I remember the innocents. I had never killed a single innocent. But I remember the faces of my family after you killed them. My mother, my father, my sister. My six year old twin nieces. I remember them. That's all I need to remember."

Lucian frowned. "We did-"

_BOOM!_

They all crouched reflexively at the sound of the explosion.

"What the hell was that?" Michael shouted to Selene.

"An explosion," she replied, grabbing his hand and tugging him away.

Caleb and Elizabeta were already arming up – the guards behind them had thrown them a couple of guns.

"Stay here!" Caleb shouted to Helena. "Get to the infirmary!" he told Imelda. "We're gonna need you there before long!"

The rest of the Council had also been armed – Lucian was strapping spring loaded blades to his arms while Sonja grabbed a glinting old fashioned broadsword from above the mantle. Unlike Viktor's Council, they had not stagnated to become backstabbing vultures in the political arena – they were still warriors, every single one of them.

"Elizabeta! Get to the barracks! Get them up – we're under attack!" Caleb shouted.

"They must have come from the sewer entrance," Sonja said. "That's the only way they could have gotten here during the day!"

"How the hell did they know where it is?" Lucian asked. "One of ours must have told them!"

They shared a look – neither of them liked to think that one of theirs would betray them.

They ran into the hall – Viktor's vampires were flooding into the space from the darkened room housing the access hatch.

The vycan force came thundering down the stairs from their rooms above. Whereas Viktor's troops were dressed in jeans, hoodies – civilian clothing – the vycans actually looked like a military force – khakis, combat boots. The vampires wore special masks and reflective glasses should they be exposed to sunlight. The lycans' clothing was all in one, without belts, so it was easy to remove. They did not wear anything on their feet.

Before the two forces could engage, the front doors exploded open.

"What the fuck was that?" Michael yelled. Selene had shoved him in the corner. At this new threat, Michael transformed for the first time. He gained bulk, his skin turned iridescent grey, his eyes quicksilver. Michael snarled, his teeth fangs, his fingernails lengthening into claws.

"I don't know!" Selene yelled back over the din. She peeked behind her at Michael then did a double take. "Michael," she said, appreciation seeping into her voice.

"What?" his demonic face took on a frown.

She found his hybrid form oddly attractive. He was not bestial like the werewolf, or had the cold poise of a vampire. Michael shifted uncomfortably under the now too tight clothing. He tugged off the hooded sweater. The T-shirt was too tight, all ready straining to contain his sudden mass. Digging his claws into the seams, Michael ripped it off and threw the shreds away.

Selene's eyes raked over his newly exposed torso. He looked really good. She wondered what this attraction was. It could not be a hybrid thing because she felt nothing like it when she had confronted any of the other male hybrids over the years, not even Caleb who most closely resembled the even split Michael had gained from being bitten by both immortals so close together.

That left the altogether far worrying thought that she was in fact attracted to Michael. Shit.

She looked at the blown open door; her world altering musings had only taken seconds – enough time for a platoon of black clad soldiers to run in, forming a wall between the on looking immortals and the man striding up the steps to the hall.

Marcus and William looked at the man with identical, slack jawed expressions.

"Father?" Marcus breathed.

"Hello, Marcus, William," Corvinus said, walking through the black clad figures who parted for him. Corvinus looked at them all with an imperious stare. Viktor bristled at being seen like that – he looked down at people, they did not look down at him! He bared his teeth but Corvinus dismissed him like he was an insignificant speck.

"Um...what the fuck is going on here?" Michael asked the silent room. "Who is he?" He pointed to Corvinus.

"I am Alexander Corvinus," Corvinus said. "I am your ancestor."

"Oh," Michael said, a little stunned but after everything that had happened in the last four days, this was not so unbelievable. "Nice to meet you, I guess."

"A pleasure," Corvinus inclined his head.

"So...are we fighting, or what?" Elizabeta asked. The quickest of the mark, she already had a vampire by the throat, her sword at his neck to deliver the fatal blow.

"We need a moment," Corvinus said. "This is the final battle, it seems. Before everyone fights to the death I think they should know all the facts."

Lucian and Sonja exchanged glances; Lucian shrugged, he did not get it either. Viktor looked worried.

"Now, can we all reconvene to a more civilised place?" Corvinus asked the assembled armed immortals.

"We can go to the large conference room," Sonja said.

This was surreal.

"Excellent," Corvinus said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we all proceed then?"

No one moved, not wanting to put their backs to an enemy.

"Shall we all put our weapons down?" Corvinus suggested. "I realise everyone here can kill with their bare hands but we'll take it as an act of faith, shall we?"

Slowly, under his gaze, weapons were lowered to the ground. Everyone backed up, vycans on one side, vampires on the other, Corvinus's force completing the triangle at the door.

Selene and Michael were away from everyone else, not knowing where to stand. So they stood in a tactically dangerous place taking the higher position on the stairs.

"Selene," Viktor said, his voice cold. She snapped to look at him. "Come here, Selene. Bring Michael."

"He hasn't chosen a side yet," Lucian said to Viktor. He looked at the young man on the stairs. "Make your own choice, Michael. Even if Selene goes to him, you don't have to."

Michael looked between the two forces then at Selene. He stayed where she was.

"I can see we have met an impasse," Corvinus said. "Alright, we'll have this discussion here. Samuel? Could you find something to cover the door with, please? Our vampiric guests must be getting uncomfortable."

The vampires in the room where indeed inching away from the doors and the sunlight streaming in. Lucian had pulled Sonja to his side away from the door when the sunlight had burst in and he and Caleb were combining forces to keep her sheltered.

"There's a tapestry hanging from the ceiling," Helena said. "The cord to pull it down is there," she pointed to a thick golden, tasselled cord wrapped around a hook on the wall.

"Much obliged," Samuel said, nodding to her. He went to the wall and released the cord which shot up as the tapestry came down. They were plunged into darkness and the cloth hit the floor with a solid thump.

Corvinus' Cleaners snapped on their night vision goggles. No one else had to bother though Michael found it disconcerting to be in pitch black and still be able to see perfectly. It was not blackness, but different shades and textures letting him see all.

"Is everyone else thinking that this really is not going down the way we expected?" Doughtery asked the crowd.

"Nope. I'm really confused," said one vampire – Selene recognised Nikolai.

There were murmurs of assent throughout the room.

"Allow me to illuminate," Corvinus said, waving his hands. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. We all know what happened to get us here. There are just a few little things to clean up. Firstly, Selene."

Everyone looked at the shocked Selene then at the first immortal. "Selene, your family was killed by Viktor's vampires, not the vycans. He can't abide livestock so he killed your family but when he got to you he was so reminded of his daughter, Sonja," he nodded to the woman in question, "that he could not bear to kill you. So he turned you, lied to you and twisted you in the cold, calculating murderess you now are."

Selene looked at Viktor. "Someone turn on the lights," she demanded.

The Cleaners took off their goggles and Samuel turned on the lights.

"Is it true?" Selene asked. "Did you kill my family?"

"Yes," Viktor said, sadness etched into his face but Selene would not be taken in by it, whether it was genuine or not. "I killed them. But I gave you so much more – immortality! Strength! Eternal beauty! What more could you want?"

"My soul!" Selene screamed. She wanted to meet him but Michael was restraining her. "My family! Not to be your puppet! Now many have I kill for you, Viktor? How many when I should have killed you?"

"He has a habit of doing that to his child," Sonja said, looking harshly at her father.

"Quiet, you traitorous bitch!" Viktor spat.

The vycans were in uproar. Caleb grabbed a knife from the vycan next to him and hurled it at Viktor. The vampire lord caught it as Caleb knew he could but it still felt good to do something. No one insulted his mother – she had more balls than most of the men in this room.

"Silence," Corvinus said calmly. Hush fell instantly. "Viktor, your people have the chance to survive if they accept peace now. Those that wish can join the vycans, those that wish to live in single race groups are free to do so, that is how you usually do this, is it not?" Corvinus asked Lucian.

Lucian nodded, still glaring at Viktor, his hands itching to rip his vampiric counterpart limb from limb.

"However, I do things differently," Corvinus said, his voice becoming colder. "Any of those that will not live in peace and harmony with all immortal beings will be killed. The vycans have made it work. Death Dealers, can you accept the vycans, werewolves, as your brothers and your kin, or can you not?"

"Never!" Viktor shouted.

Some of his vampires shouted with him but there were a few that shuffled their feet.

"What?" Viktor demanded. The unsure ones moved towards the centre of the room, the No Man's Land. "You betray me?"

Kahn led the uncertain ones. "Viktor, your rule has plagued us. You cannot accept these beings and it is killing us. We have been dying out for centuries yet you refuse to see it. We have lost the war but we can survive, if you let us."

"Rather die pure than live unclean," Viktor spat his motto as he always had in the face or uncertainty.

"You can join us, Viktor," Lucian said, giving the Elder one last chance. "You will be on the Council with Amelia. Your soldiers will be welcomed with open arms. All transgressions will be forgiven if you forgive ours." Lucian raised his hand in peace though Viktor was on the other side of the room.

"Never," Viktor said again.

Lucian put down his arm.

"Is that your choice, Viktor?" Corvinus asked.

Viktor nodded.

"Right. For ease's sake, could all those siding with Viktor stand with him on this side of the room and could all those not siding with him stand on this side of the room," Corvinus directed, pointing one arm to the left, one to the right. "Could those of you who wish not to fight please retire to that room there," Corvinus said, pointing to the Council chamber the Council, Selene and Michael had run out of when the vampires had broken in.

Some shuffled closer to their chosen leaders, others chose to stand alone here to settle their own scores, no longer immortal pawns.

"Caleb, Elizabeta?" Sonja touched their hands but both shook their heads.

"No, Mother," Caleb said. "They killed my men. I have to stay."

"Me, too," Elizabeta said cheerfully. "I've been waiting to see if I could take Gramps on." Viktor snarled at her and she blew him a kiss.

"We are the Cleaners, not soldiers," Samuel said. "We will in the conference room and await the victors."

"Thank you, Samuel," Corvinus said with a grateful nod as the Cleaners went in and shut the door. "Anyone else?" None of the immortals moved. Corvinus sighed heavily. "You are all determined to fight then. I see."

That left Viktor and every one of his Death Dealers, all the Vycans not injured in the Infirmary (Raze would have been there but had been handcuffed to his sick bed when he kept trying to leave while bleeding), Michael and Selene and those who had left Viktor belonging to no side, and Corvinus.

"Right," Corvinus rubbed his hands together. "I suppose this is whether the bloodshed begins. If you'll excuse me." He went to the door, rapped on it three times and Samuel opened the door to him.

Everyone left tensed, waiting for the unspoken signal that would begin this.

"You're a disappointment, Selene," Viktor said.

"Me? You lose both your daughters to an _animal,_" she retorted. "You're the disappointment, not me. As a father, and a leader."

"I loved my daughter! As I loved you!"

"But not as much as you loved yourself," Selene said. She took her gun from the waistband of her jeans and cocked it. "It's over, Viktor. Let it go."

"You slay me, child."

"No. But I will." Selene spoke to those on her side though she kept looking at Viktor. "He slaughtered my family while they were innocent humans, as they slept in their beds. He is mine. Anyone that protects him or gets in my way dies." The betrayal had hardened her more than she could have thought possible, stripping away any emotion or humanity she had clung to over the centuries. Now, truly soul-dead and numb, Selene saw how alive she had been, even in her darkest moments. She had felt, cared for, been cared for. She had lusted for revenge but never so much that she would not save a friend. Now, that part of her was gone. Anyone that stood between her and Viktor was expendable. Her gaze flicked to the hybrid doctor next to her. Anyone.

Viktor launched himself at her and the fight was on. Snarls, growls and roars erupted as pairs formed to duke out personal vengeance. Old scores were to be settle. This was it. The final fight. It was small, it was dirty. The end to a centuries long war was a skirmish in the foyer of a manor house in Budapest.


	10. Chapter 9

_Okay, for keili77 since she's the only person to find the 'review' button. Keili77, you = AWESOME!_

_Today's lesson: good things happen to those who review! You may not see it, but reviews make me happy! A rarity, yes, but I have been known to smile when the occasion absolutely calls for it._

Chapter Nine

As Viktor's most effective weapon, Selene was targeted by many. With no vendettas to settle and Selene having been the only constant in his life since it took the direct train to Hell, Michael decided to cover her back as she went after Viktor. He had no training but learnt quickly. Michael hacked, slashed, kicked, sucker punched and head butted as required, determined not to let this woman die as his fiancée had.

The Vycans outnumbered the Death Dealers slightly and had hybrids on their side but a lot of Viktor's forces were older than Lucien's, remnants of his medieval court and thus were very powerful. Blood, both tepid and hot, soaked the floor, seeping from the fatal wounds of the immortals that littered the foyer like discarded newspaper. Hunger gave the combatants' fury an unneeded but undeniably edge.

Selene finally reached Viktor, who had been trying to keep as many combatants – whether lycan or vampire – between them. Viktor withdrew his mighty sword from its scabbard but Selene shot it out of his hands; the actions used her last bullets and she had no more clips so she threw the gun away, preparing to fight hand to hand. She knew it was basically suicide, Viktor was an Elder, centuries older than her, but the memories of her murdered family kept her raging, kept her fierce and fighting.

Viktor took the offensive and swung at her. Ducking under the blow, Selene went to punch him in the gut but Viktor caught her wrist at the last second and gave it a vicious twist away from him. Biting back a yelp of pain, Selene kicked out at Viktor's kneecap with such force that a mortal's bone would have shattered. Viktor growled, forced to drop her wrist but remained standing.

"How dare you strike me?" he yelled. "I gave you everything!"

"You gave me nothing but death," Selene said, "empty centuries of lifeless existence."

"It was more than you deserved," Viktor spat, backhanding her across the face. Selene flew across the room, smacking into the wall twenty feet away and crumpling to the floor dazed.

Viktor moved towards her, the mongrel bodyguard Michael too busy fighting a Death Dealer _and_ a Vycan to protect Selene anymore. "Time to end you, you ungrateful little bitch."

"You talking to her? Or me?" came a voice to his right.

Turning to look, Viktor saw Sonja a split second before her fist smashed into his face. Dancing out of reach, Sonja withdrew a pair of Sais – long fighting knives – from her waistband. "Hello, Father," she said, beginning to circle him.

"Sonja." He matched her movements, step for step.

"So you do remember me then?" his daughter tossed at him. "I thought you would have wiped me from your memory as you tried to wipe me from the histories."

"If it had been possible I would have," Viktor said venomously. "I rue the day your mother died to bring you into this world. I wish it had been you, not her, to die. She may have given me more children."

The pain of his words cut deep but Sonja tossed back her head, defiant. "Indeed. Maybe they would have been unable to think for themselves. Daddy's perfect little soldiers."

"They would have been loyal to _me!" _Viktor shouted. "As you should have been."

"Why?" the Vycan Queen asked, lifting her chin imperially. "When you were ever loyal to me?"

Viktor's eyes flashed with rage and he started towards her but was thrown back by a booted foot to the face.

Selene had regained her feet and her place in the fight. "He is mine!" she told Sonja.

"I had a fight with him long before you!" Sonja yelled back over the din or snarls and death cries. "Looks like we'll just have to share."

"As long as he dies," Selene said chillingly.

"He will," Sonja vowed.

Together, like the Furies of old, the Vycan Queen and the renegade Death Dealer went after the one they had once considered a father. Viktor's eyes widened at the sight of both of these warrior women bearing down on him and he backed away, not daring to look away. Sonja feinted and when Viktor went to parry Selene darted in, kicking out his leg. Viktor went down on one knee and Sonja slashed across his throat with her blade. Viktor clutched at his throat, blood seeping through his fingers.

Circling him intently, the two immortal females did not notice how all the other fights had quietened then stilled to watch the downfall of Viktor.

Caleb went to intervene but was held back by three Death Dealers. Lucien and Michael made similar moves towards their womenfolk but were likewise held back. Viktor belonged to these two more than anyone. No one would risk their anger by interfering.

Viktor regained his feet. "You should have struck when you had the chance," he told them, wiping the blood from his now healed neck.

"Where is the glory in fighting a man on his knees?" Sonja taunted him.

"Your end with not be swift, or pleasant," Selene said coldly. "You will not be shown an ounce of mercy."

It was a variation of Viktor's favourite phrase, 'you will not be shown an ounce of leniency', one he said often, every time he executed because someone had supposedly gone against his orders. Selene fancied that by this time he merely liked to kill, and needed frequent deaths to remind the Death Dealers of his power.

Viktor recognised it and scowled. "My daughters," he said, looking between them. "Such disappointments. Such whores."

The air was filled with snarls and the snapping of fangs, both in defence of Sonja and Selene. Everyone in the room, whether friend or foe of either woman, knew this was not true. Sonja had fallen in love and shown incredible bravery and loyalty to that love. Selene was a feared and respected soldier, always putting her duty above herself.

Viktor had done the worst possible thing in this situation. He had united the two forces by making them both openly hate him. Whatever chance he had of support was now gone.

_CLANG._

Heads swivelled to see Kahn throw down his weapon and fold his arms. The gesture was understood. He was out. He had turned his back on Viktor before but now he would not raise his hand against Viktor's enemies. He surrendered to the Vycans.

_CLANG. CLANG CLANGCLANGCLANG!_

The remaining Death Dealers followed Kahn's example and were soon in Vycan custody. At least, they watched the fight with their hands behind their backs, a Vycan standing guard over them.

Viktor spun slowly in a circle, looking for one remaining loyal soldier.

Amelia pushed through the crowds to stand beside him. "I will not surrender to dogs and turncoats!" she spat.

"Then you will die," Elizabeta said, stepping forward. Turning to her mother and Selene she said, "I understand that you want to divvy up Gramps, but I've wanted this bitch since she killed me back in 1765. 'Kay?"

Both Sonja and Selene nodded once.

"That was a good day," Amelia said, bending into a fighting crouch.

"Not for me," Elizabeta growled. It was still a sore spot that her grandfather's paramour had managed to kill her. Even if it was only until her heart grew back.

The fights started again, Selene and Sonja versus Viktor, Elizabeta against Amelia. Viktor had several centuries on both of his opponents but it was two against one. Amelia out-aged Elizabeta by a couple hundred years but was only a vampire where Elizabeta was a hybrid.

Overall, they were pretty matched fights.

Viktor lunged at Sonja who ducked and sliced a thin cut across his middle. She threw her other knife to Selene who twirled, opening Viktor's flesh from hip to shoulder across his back.

Amelia punched Elizabeta who spun with the force, using the momentum to spin and sucker punch the vampire Elder, throwing her several feet into the wall of onlookers. Amelia was pushed back into the middle to face the ninja hybrid who was grinning with feral glee.

Viktor managed to grab Selene and bit down hard on her neck from behind causing Selene to cry out and Michael to fight against the men restraining him. Sonja jumped on her father's back, holding one Sais above her head in both hands, bringing it down sharply to puncture Viktor's shoulder. The dagger slid in hilt-deep and Viktor roared, throwing Selene away from him and rearing back causing Sonja to fall from her perch.

Elizabeta and Amelia exchanged blows, blocking and thrusting fists and feet until Elizabeta managed to grab a fistful of Amelia's hair, dragging her head back. "Next time you rip out someone's heart," she hissed in Amelia's ear, "make sure it can't grow back."

"I still keep yours in a glass box on my mantle piece," Amelia growled, trying to scratch at Elizabeta.

"Sweetheart, that's gross," Elizabeta said. She drew back her other fist and drove it into Amelia's chest, breaking through skin, muscle and rib to close around the vampiress's heart. "I'm not going to keep yours. You're not worth it."

With an almighty yank, Elizabeta ripped out Amelia's heart, releasing the dark hair as she did so. Amelia's (permanently) lifeless body fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

Everyone stared at Elizabeta and her gruesome prize, her arm soaked up to the elbow in blood and gore, the vampire heart clenched in one fist dripping blood onto the already stained marble floor.

"Finish this," she told Selene and Sonja.

"YOU BITCH!!" Viktor roared rushing her.

"YOU'LL NOT TOUCH MY CHILD!!" Sonja screamed.

Selene dropped into a crouch, sweeping Viktor's legs out from underneath him. The vampire lord went crashing face first down on the floor. Sonja leapt once more onto his back, grasping his head and pulling it back. "It is over now, Viktor," she hissed. "This war and your tyranny are over."

With that she bit down on his neck. Viktor's eyes widened in pain and disbelief, blood bubbling up to dribble out of the corner of his mouth as his daughter's fangs sank deep. With a horrible _riiiip _of tearing flesh and muscle, Sonja tore out a huge part of Viktor's neck and spat in onto the floor, blood staining her mouth and streaking her chin.

"He will die from this eventually if we do not let him heal," she told Selene. "Or you can finish him now."

Selene walked up to the vampire Elder that had been her undisputed Lord, teacher...father, for over seven hundred years, looking up at her from where he lay, now on his back, the blood seeping out of the gaping wound in his throat. "I should let you die slowly, painfully for what you have done," Selene said, looking down on him. "But why infect the world with your evil any longer?"

Before Viktor finished comprehending her words, Selene moved. Like a viper, she struck, her teeth unerringly finding the tattered neck, her powerful jaws closing tight and ripping out what remained of Viktor's throat. Like Sonja, Selene spat the hunk of flesh out before she could accidentally swallow any of his blood. She did not want any part of him inside her. She was sullied enough without him contaminating her further.

"Viktor is dead," came the deep, powerful voice of Corvinus. The crowd respectfully parted for him, Vycan and vampire both stepping aside for him to walk unhindered through them to the impromptu ring. "So ends this war. Your armies are decimated. Should you want your races to survive you will have to learn to accept each other to live together peacefully or tolerate each other enough to exist on this planet without fighting. The choice is yours.  
"But know this. My men and I will be watching, protecting the humans from proof of your existence. Should another war break out, justice will be swift and without mercy for those responsible.  
"Bury your dead with honour. It is sunrise and the beginning of a new day. A new era.  
"Now, if you will excuse me," Corvinus said, waving his men out of the front door into the weak sunlight of a Hungarian winter – the vampires hit behind whatever lycan was closest to them – "I must convey this message to the rest of the world. Remember, justice will be swift, and _without mercy. _Good day to you all."

And with that, Corvinus swept out of the house, leaving the crowd in an uneasy silence.

_AH MA GAD! VIKKI'S DEAD! Took me long enough to get here, but now I have you can all show your appreciation by reviewing. :P_


	11. Chapter 10

_Last chappie! Wow, this story's only ten chapters long – I thought it would be longer but everything moved quite quickly when I got down to it. Hope you enjoyed our little excursion into the Underworld via my head. It's been fun. NOW REVIEW!!!!!! _

_Thank you._

Chapter Ten

The battle was over. The soldiers were looking around at their fellow survivors.

"Er, should we go into the conference room until this one is cleaned up?" Helena suggested. Trust the politician to come up with a good idea.

There were mutters of agreement and the immortals moved cautiously, on edge and looking out for another attack.

As in the hall before the battle, they divided into groups. The Vycan council once more took their places at the table, their force surrounding them. The remaining vampires lined up along the far wall looking distinctly uncomfortable now that their leaders, the only ones amongst them with the rank to make the Vycans talk to them instead of kill them, were dead. Selene and Michael stood apart from the others; Selene with her arms folded tightly across her chest, glaring out at the room while Michael stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes looking rapidly between the people in the room.

Lucien looked around at everyone gathered in the room. He was not quite certain how to continue. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Are you all willing to let his war end with the battle just fought?" he asked.

Within the groups, the players looked at each other uncertainly, shrugging.

"I speak for my men," Caleb said, looking at them – they nodded – before addressing his father. "This war is over for us. We will have no further involvement in it should others continue to pursue it."

Lucien nodded to his son. "The rest of you?" he asked the room.

Kahn stepped forward. As weapons master and head of security for the coven, he now held the highest rank in the vampires. "Our Elders are dead. Our numbers are decimated. Viktor forced us to fight when we knew our species was on the brink of extinction. This was his war, not ours. It is over for us. We ask only that you let us leave this place with no further harm to us. We will leave this country; you will never have to see us again."

Lucien nodded to accept Kahn's proposal. "I think that would be wise. We will not force anyone to remain here with so many centuries of bad blood between us." He stood and the Council followed suit. Lucien extended his hand which Kahn, flanked by the few vampires left alive, shook in front of everyone. "Go now in peace. No harm will befall you. The Ordoghaz, any clothes, money, any belongings are yours – we will take nothing. You may collect them all. If you need vehicles to take you to the ports, we will of course provide them."

"Thank you," Kahn said, "but we will manage. We will empty the Ordoghaz tonight and be gone by morning's light."

With a final shake, Kahn and his vampires left; the assumed vampire leader spared Selene a look, sharing a last smile and nod with the warrior woman he had spent seven hundred years fighting along side.

"What are we going to do?" Michael whispered to Selene.

Selene merely shrugged.

"Selene, Michael," Lucien gestured to the empty floor in front of the table, "please step forward."

She hesitated at first but then Selene strode to the space indicated, nodding her head at Michael to follow her.

"What will you do now?" Lucien asked.

"What are you going to do to us?" Selene asked. "We separated from Viktor before the fight but we didn't side with you. We're traitors to both sides."

"You are not traitors to us," Lucien said. "We have always been on opposing sides."

"So, what now?" Selene asked again.

"What do you want to do? Michael?" Sonja asked the new hybrid.

"I don't know," Michael said. "Four days ago I was an American doctor in Budapest with a mountain of debt. Now I'm a mythical hybrid immortal creature guy and I've just been in a battle when before I wasn't even an army medic. I'm a little out of my depth here."

"Understandable," Sonja said. "Caleb?" she asked, looking at her son down the table.

Without her needing to go any further, Caleb nodded. "I would be willing to help Michael in the adjustment period, if you need it," he said to the newest hybrid.

Michael nodded faintly, "that may be a good idea because this is all starting to catch up with me and I'm suddenly not feeling so good that I ripped a guy's intestines out of his body with my bare hands." Michael bent over abruptly, bracing his hands on his knees, taking deep, steadying breaths.

Selene surprised them all by showing concern. She moved so fast she blurred, putting her hands on Michael's shoulders, whether to comfort him or stead him she was not sure yet – she was not sure what she needed. When he did not respond, she went down on one knee next to him, leaving herself open to attack, to slide her hand across Michael's jaw, gently turning his face to look at her. "You okay?" she asked quietly. Every immortal in the room could hear her but Michael did not look like he could handle any more loud noises.

"I killed people, Selene," he said, crumpling to his knees, taking Selene with him, her arms wrapped around him. Uncaring of the crowd looking on, Michael stared down at his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks. His hands were cut, caked in blood, both his and others. "I killed them. They would have hurt me first, or you. But I wasn't thinking of that. I wasn't thinking of anything at all. I was strong, powerful. I _wanted_ them to attack – I knew I could win. I just gave into the rage." Michael put his head in his hands, sliding them into his hair to hold his aching head together.

"Oh, Michael," Selene said softly, pulling him close. She had been here before. After her first kill. Everyone in this room had. That moment when the adrenaline ebbs away and you are left shaking and drained, having crossed the line. The kill was made, someone was dead. And you would never be the person you were before.

Michael was no longer the innocent he had been. He was a soldier now, whether he liked it or not.

Soon enough, Michael straightened up and wiped the tears from his face, facing the Council. "I apologise," he said soberly, his eye rimmed red.

Caleb shook his head. "Don't apologise. We understand. In fact, we would be concerned if you didn't react to the fight you've just been in." Caleb remembered his own 'reaction'. It involved stalking the vampire's lover for weeks, forcing himself to share in his tears. Then he had sobered up and gone home a warrior.

Michael nodded, biting back further tears. "There's no going back is there?"

Lucien shook his head. "You are one of us, Michael. How you chose to live out the rest of your days in up to you. What do you want to do?"

"Right now I want to sleep," Michael said honestly.

Elizabeta eyed Selene. "He's fine but what about her? She could murder us all in our beds. She was Viktor's bitch for seven centuries after all."

Selene narrowed her eyes. "I know exactly where I'd start."

"I don't think that's helping," Michael muttered to her.

Caleb smirked. "Don't mind Elizabeta. She's been angling for a fight with Selene since reaching her majority. If it's alright with the rest of the Council, I'd like to suggest that we clean ourselves up and sleep today and reconvene tomorrow evening."

The Council agreed unanimously, Elizabeta looking extremely bored now that a fight with Selene was evidently not on the table.

Selene and Michael were led back to the room they had left only a few hours ago. They were informed of a few price pieces of data that Selene would not have minded knowing before.

"Don't bother trying to leave," the Vycan said, "you're in the middle of the compound. The walls are three feet thick and lined with five inches of steel. Touching the window will activate the alarm, making the steel shutters descend. Try and leave through the door and you'll be ribbons before you get down the hall."

"Nice to know, thanks," Selene said sarcastically.

Michael just pushed past them both into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking the two others out. He needed to be alone. He needed something other than Selene's unflappable coolness. He stripped the dirty clothes, now damp and sticky from the blood of his victims, the last things remaining from his old life.

Michael turned his back on them and climbed into the shower letting scolding war slosh the sweat and blood from his skin before the icy water helped bring down several points of swelling – where he had been thrown against walls by immortals.

Michael shook his head and closed his eyes trying to block out the memories.

He did not know how long he stayed in that shower but eventually Caleb knew he had to get out. He had to check on his men, on his family then step into the role of Council member to decide the fate of the Death Dealer, Selene.

Caleb was never comfortable thinking of himself as a Council member. The captain of an elite unit was a rank he had earned and had proven again and again to deserve. He was born a Council member and that was not sufficient qualification for him. But, now the war was over, it seemed he was not a Captain now, anyway.

Caleb stepped out the shower, dried himself and dropped the wet towel in the hamper before striding across his bedroom, naked, to the walk in wardrobe, determinedly not looking at the large bed he had never shared with another being.

Far from virginal, Caleb had preferred his liaisons to take place elsewhere. The women in the Vycan fortress were either with other men or were twittering, bored immortal goddesses looking to ensnare him so they could become part of the highest echelon of Vycan society. Neither appealed to Caleb. His pursuits had been strictly low-key, off-grounds, short-term acquaintances that led to nothing whatsoever and was usually with mortal women more than willing to be serviced by a strapping mysterious soldier for a few weeks before he disappeared again.

The ache caused by the loneliness of his existence had become something Caleb had learned to live with. When living forever, finding one's mate was the only thing an immortal lived for. Caleb had watched as his men had each found 'The One' and begun looking on him with pity now that the war was ending and he had no one to share the oncoming peace with.

He was a soldier. Had been a soldier since the day he was born. Now he was meant to stop and be something else? He could not do that. Not easily.

Selene sat on the bed, her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on the interlaced fingers.

So this was worrying.

This sucked.

Death Dealer extraordinaire was sat on the bed waiting for a guy like some little wife. It did not suit her. In fact, it grated a little. Why would he not just try talking to her instead? She was just meant to see here playing with her nails?

Screw that!

Selene stood up and strode over to the bathroom door just in time for Michael to open it. He had just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet, a towel slung around his hips. Behind him, the bloodstained clothes he had spent the last three days wearing were shredded on the floor.

"Uh, hi," Selene sat lamely, putting down the hand that was fisted to knock on the door. "You okay?"

"I'm great," Michael said tonelessly, pushing past her into the room. He dropped the towel and pulled a pair of sweats out of the drawers.

"So, do you want to-"

"I'm going to sleep," Michael said shortly, getting into bed and turning on his side so his back was to her.

"Okay then," Selene said quietly. "That's...fine." She looked around the room.

Nothing to do. Great.

An hour later, Elizabeta walked past the room where Michael and Selene were being held.

"Hello? Hello? Oh, come on!" It was Selene, her words punctuated by loud knocks.

Elizabeta grinned. This could be fun.

Walking up to the door, Elizabeta knocked back to let Selene know she was here. "What do you want, Death Dealer?"

"I want to get out of this room!"

"No going to happen."

"I just want to walk the corridor?"

"Why?"

"Because I love your carpet," Selene said sarcastically.

"Walking away now," Elizabeta told her and stomped on the floor.

"Oh, come on!" Selene said again.

Elizabeta began to laugh.

"Bitch," Selene muttered.

"Also your only chance to talk – no one uses this corridor, it's why we put you here." Elizabeta sensed she was going to be here for a while so leant against the wall.

"Perfect. I'm stuck in a room with a stubbornly unconscious guy who refuses to talk to me with a smartass on the other side of the only door out of this FUCKING ROOM! Just great."

There was a thud as Selene slumped against the door and slid to the floor.

"So, Michael's not dealing with this well, huh?" Elizabeta asked.

"Why do you care?" Selene demanded.

"I may want to kill you, sweetheart, but Michael is one of us," Elizabeta shot back.

"He's not one of you," said Selene.

"So, what? He's with you? Doesn't seem it from here."

Selene said nothing and Elizabeta felt annoyed at the pang of guilt that silencing the newly thawed ice maiden caused. She had two sisters and a mother after all. Apparently, Selene was not all that different from how Sonja used to be.

"So, uh," Elizabeta racked her brains for the right thing to say – not her strong point. "Michael just needs a little adjustment period. I'm sure you guys will be fine after that."

"We're not together," came Selene's staunch reply.

"So, you feel nothing for him? All of this was what, a kick for you? Throwing off the yolk? Growing a backbone after seven hundred years?"

"Fuck you."

"Eloquent."

"What do you want, Elizabeta?"

"Hey, you hail me down, remember? I was just passing by."

"So keep passing."

"Do we really want me to go?" Elizabeta asked, sitting down against the door, too.

"Not really," Selene admitted.

"Good, 'cause I just sat down."

"Why are we talking?" Selene asked after a pause.

"You know, there's only so much of your attitude I can take," Elizabeta snapped.

"No, I didn't mean it like that I just meant that...this is a little surreal, isn't it?" Selene asked.

"You mean, you and me having a somewhat civilised conversation with nothing separating us but a door with no one forcing us to?" Elizabeta said with a grin.

"Yeah. Why do you think we are?"

"Maybe the writer had no idea how to finish the story and this came out," Elizabeta said.

"Huh?" came Selene's confused reply.

Elizabeta shook her head. "Never mind."

"Okay. So, what are we doing? After seven centuries of fighting we're having a real conversation."

"Maybe we're just trying to live with each other," Elizabeta shrugged.

"I don't think we'll ever be able to live with each other after so much," Selene said tiredly.

"Well, there's a big wide world out there. Pick a country. You can go anywhere now Viktor is dead." Elizabeta plucked a knife out of her boot and began cleaning her nails, completely unaware of Selene's feelings on the other side of the door.

Selene was remembering that final moment when her jaws clamped around Viktor's throat. Her teeth cut through flesh, sinew and bone, severing muscle and veins. His blood slid down her throat, gagging her, her hate making the bile rise. Then he was dead. The man who had given her immortal life and been like a father to her. Gone.

Selene leant her head back against the door. She had worked so hard, killed so many, to avenge the dead of her family. All for the man that had killed them. She had been his puppet, duped and deceived. She should have died, so long ago. Part of her wished she had – it would be easier.

"Pretty quiet over there," Elizabeta said, "what are you thinking about?"

"I'm a monster," Selene said.

Elizabeta laughed. "We all are, sweetie. We're the stuff of nightmares."

"No, I mean I'm really a monster – I killed indiscriminately for centuries. Not because there was a reason or because I had to but because I could. Because I was hurting and I wanted someone else to suffer along with me."

"Believe me, Selene, we all suffered," Elizabeta said. "We all lost people."

"A lot of them because of me."

"Not going to argue with you there; you've got quite the reputation." Elizabeta gave a dramatic sigh. "If it wasn't for this pesky new peace treaty we could have had our little competition to the death. I guess now we'll just have to let bygones be bygones and accept that we're both hot, kickass females."

Selene gave a short laugh. "I haven't thought about myself in those terms in so long."

"Seriously?" Elizabeta pulled a face. "What's the point of living forever if you can't even get laid once in a while?"

"You're such a lady."

"I agree."

They shared a laugh which made them both start.

"But now you got Michael I'm thinking that you'll be thinking about yourself in those terms a lot more. Because I'm pretty sure he is," Elizabeta said.

"I don't think Michael likes me right now." Selene rubbed her forehead. If vampires could get headaches, she would be in agony right now.

"Don't take it personally; Michael doesn't like anyone right now. And with good reason. We drag him into hell with no explanations, no apologies. Just 'hey, you're not human anymore, fight for us!' What a great lot we are," Elizabeta muttered.

"Why do you care so much about him?" Selene asked, jealously protective over the man currently sleeping in the bed.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm not going to try anything," Elizabeta said. "I am allowed to feel bad for him you know."

"That's not all this about," Selene said.

Elizabeta sighed. "Fine. Got involved with someone, they found out the truth, they ended up dead, ergo, I know how you feel. Except I lost my guy – yours is still alive."

"I don't know if he is my guy. It's a mess."

"He chose you."

"He chose me because I was the devil he knew."

"He still chose you. He could have run but he didn't. Maybe you should trust that," Elizabeta told her.

"When did you become the love guru?" Selene teased.

"Fuck off."

"Eloquent." She threw at Elizabeta the same remark Selene had received.

Elizabeta laughed.

"What will you do now?" Selene asked.

Elizabeta shrugged before she realised Selene would not be able to tell through the door. "No idea. Guess there will always be something to kill. But it will be the exception not the rule now the war is over so I guess I'll have to start taking Council work seriously. The mythical beings need governing after all. What about you?" Elizabeta asked.

"No clue. I haven't got any other role to fill but this one. My whole life has been about this war, now it's over I am...obsolete."

"You know, it's a load of crap when people say you only live once," Elizabeta observed. "As you should know anyway. Your life as a Death Dealer is now over. So make a new one. It's not like you have to worry about dying before you manage it."

"So, that's it? I just...become someone new?" Selene asked unconvinced.

"Or the person you used to be," Elizabeta asked. "Who were you before you were turned?"

Selene gave a bitter laugh. "A daughter, a sister, an aunt. A young, innocent girl waiting for the day she would find a man, marry him and make lots of babies."

"So, get with Michael, get hitched and start making with the babies," Elizabeta said offhand as though it was so easy.

"It's a little more complicated than that, don't you think?"

"Not unless you make it more complicated," said Elizabeta.

"So, that's it...just pick up and make a new life?" asked Selene.

"That's what we're all going to have to do," Elizabeta said. "Let old scars fade, let new wounds heal. Remember the dead, celebrate the living. Yadda yadda yadda..."

Lucien stood once more on his balcony, overlooking the city. Again, he did not turn when he felt his wife's presence but let her cross the room and wrap her arms around his waist.

"What makes you crave this solitude, my love?" Sonja asked, resting her cheek on his back.

"Just thinking," Lucien said, looking at the night sky over Budapest. "The war is over. We have waited so long and finally we are free."

Sonja walked around to stand in front of Lucien without letting go of him. She smiled gently up at him. "Is it so bad that this over?" she asked.

"No," Lucien said, embracing her. "But it's been a goal for so long that I can't believe it's finally real."

"Hmmm," Sonja leant against him; Lucien tucked her head under his chin. "It's going to take a while to adjust. But we have time, my love. No more war, no more fighting or dying. We can just live forever, watch our children find their own loves, have their own children." She nudged him with her hips, "maybe have some more of our own."

Lucien's hand slipped to her bottom. "I believe you're trying to seduce me."

"Excuse me," Sonja poked him in the chest, "but _your_ hand is on _my_ ass."

"I can move it if you want me to," Lucien said with a grin, lifting his hand a little.

Sonja slapped his hand back onto her ass. "I didn't say I wanted you to move it. I just observed that it was here."

"Hmmm," Lucien kissed her, squeezing her bum. "So, when do you want to try for the next child?"

"Uh, right now?" Sonja said brightly.

"Sounds good," Lucien said. He swept her up into his arms, making her squeal. "I think I may enjoy having a kid without war looming over us."

Sonja laughed. "It would make a change."

_Dear lord, it's over! Unless you want the sequel. Some have said yes. I'll write it to get it out of my head but not for a while – end of year exams, don't you know._


End file.
